The gnomes emerged from the ship after a few hours' nap, staggering under a burden of tools, clothing, instruments, and other less identifiable rubbish. Kitiara spied Roperig and Fitter pushing a four-wheeled cart between them.
'What have you two got there?' she asked.
Roperig dug in his heels to stop the cart. 'A few essential things,' he said. He had a coil of rope over his left shoulder that was so thick he couldn't turn his head in that direction.
'This is ridiculous. Where did you get this contraption?'
'Fitter and me made it. It's all wood, you see? No metal.' Roperig thumped the rear wall of the cart with his foot.
'Where did the wood come from?' said Kitiara.
'Oh, we knocked out a few of the inside walls in the ship.'
'Great suffering gods! It's a good thing we're going on this march. Otherwise, you gnomes would have the whole ship dismantled before long!'
The explorers mustered on the plain below the Cloudmaster's port side. The gnomes, in their usual endearing earnestness, lined up like an honor guard on parade. Despite the bleakness of their situation, Sturm couldn't help but smile at the goofy, ingenious little men.
'Stutts has asked me to lead this march to the hills, in search of ore to repair the flying ship, and you all have agreed to follow my directions. My, ah, colleague, Kitiara is to be equally responsible. She's had considerable experience in forays like this, and we should all be guided by her wisdom.'
Kitiara did not acknowledge his compliment, but leaned back against the ship's hull and looked on impassively, one hand resting on the pommel of her sword.
'Sighter estimates the distance to the hills as fifteen miles. We should reach them at about the time daylight breaks, isn't that right?'
Sighter checked a column of numbers scrawled on his shirt cuff.
'Fifteen miles in six hours; yes, that's right.'
Sturm looked down the line of his 'troops.' He couldn't think of anything else to say. 'Well, let's get going,' he said, embarrassed. So much for his first speech as a leader.
Fitter and Roperig ran around their makeshift cart, fitting long poles into prepared brackets on the front and back. Bellcrank and Cutwood placed themselves on the pole in front, while Roperig and Fitter took up positions at the rear.
'A four-gnome-power exploratory wagon,' said Wingover admiringly.
'Mark I,' added Rainspot.
'Move out,' said Kitiara impatiently.
With no more fanfare than that, the First Lunitari Exploration March began. Stutts, Birdcall, and Flash waved from the roof of the deckhouse as their colleagues marched away. From their high perch, they watched the expedition's progress long after the Cloudmaster was lost to the marchers' view in the fluid mauve shadows.
'Nope,' Sighter said. 'Sound as the slopes of Mt. Nevermind.'
He squinted up at Kitiara, who still held the brokenoff pole in her hand. 'You broke it with one hand.'
Wordlessly she held the pole in both hands, straight out in front of her. Bending her elbows in, Kitiara bent the pole. The wood splintered with a loud crack.
'I had no idea you were so strong,' said Sturm.
'Neither did I!' she replied, equally astonished.
'Here,' said Bellcrank, picking up one of the pieces of the pole from where Kitiara had dropped it. 'Break it again.'
The piece was less than a foot long. Kitiara had to use her knee for a brace, but she snapped even that short length.
'Something is happening here,' said Sighter, narrowing his eyes. 'You've gotten undeniably stronger in the twenty hours we've been on Lunitari.' 'Maybe we're all getting stronger!' Cutwood said. He grasped another bit of the pole and tried to bend it. His florid face turned quite purple, but the wood did not so much as crack. Similar efforts by the others, including Sturm, showed no increase in strength. Kitiara beamed.
'Looks like you're the sole beneficiary of this gift, whatever it is,' said Sturm evenly. 'At least it will be useful. Can you free the cart?'
She snapped her fingers and swaggered around the rear of the cart. Kitiara flattened one hand against the cargo box and shoved. The cart leaped out of its ruts, almost running Fitter and Wingover down.
'Careful!' said Sturm. 'You've got to learn to handle this newfound strength, or you may hurt someone.'
Kitiara wasn't listening. She ran her hands up and down her arms again and again, as if to feel the power radiating from her strangely augmented muscles. 'I don't know why it happened or how, but I like it,' she said. Sturm noticed a new swagger in her walk. First his weird dream (it had been so real), and now Kit's new strength. All was not natural on the red moon.
Four hours later the hills were well within range. Close up, they had an oddly soft appearance, rounded, as though a giant hand had smoothed them. Kitiara took over the lead when Sturm's step faltered. He was tired, and his meager breakfast of beans and water wasn't enough to keep him at his best. In fact, as the marchers approached six and a half hours out from the Cloudrnaster, Kitiara ran ahead to be the first to reach the hills.
'Kit, wait! Come back!' Sturm called.
She waved and sprinted on. The gnomes let the cart coast to a stop at the foot of a hill. Kitiara shouted and waved from the top. She skidded down the slope, coming to a halt by bumping into Sturm. He caught her arms. Panting, she smiled at him.
'You can see a long way from up there,' she gasped. 'The hills go on for miles, but there are wide trails running between them.'
'You shouldn't go off on your own like that,' Sturm said. Kitiara lost her smile and shook herself free of his grasp.
'I can take care of myself,' she said coolly. The gnomes flopped down where they stood. Uphill tramping had considerably dampened their ardor for the march. Against all advice, they rapidly drank up their meager water supply and were soon wishing for more.
'If only we could find a spring,' said Wingover.
'Or if it rains, we could spread our blankets and catch the water,' said Sighter. '
Well, Rainspot? Might it rain?' The weather seer, lying flat on his back, waved one hand feebly. 'I don't think it has ever rained here,' he said flatly. 'Though I wish to Reorx it would.' At his words, a wisp of vapor, no denser than steam, abruptly formed over the exhausted gnome. The vapor expanded, thickened, and turned into a small white cloud, three feet wide. The gnomes and humans watched, speechless, as the white cloud went murky gray. A single droplet fell on the motionless Rainspot.
'That's not funny,' he complained. Rainspot's eyes opened in time to catch the tiny shower that fell from his personal rain cloud. 'Hydrodynamics!' he exclaimed. The other gnomes crowded in under the little cloud, their round, upturned faces ecstatic as the raindrops pelted them. Sturm came over. He swept a hand through it and it came out sopping wet. Then, as quickly and mysteriously as it had come, the cloud faded away.
'This smacks of magic,' Sturm said.
'I didn't do anything,' Rainspot insisted. 'I just wished it would rain.'
'Maybe you have the power to grant wishes now,' said Wingover. 'Like Kitiara has gained strength.'
The gnomes took up this theory and besieged their poor colleague with a barrage of requests. Wingover wanted a rib roast. Cutwood asked for a bushel of crisp apples. Bellcrank wanted a roast pig and apples. Roperig and Fitter wanted muffins — with raisins, of course.
'Stop, stop!' Rainspot pleaded tearfully. He couldn't bear so many demands at once. Sturm shooed the shouting gnomes away. Only Sighter remained, staring at the weeping Rainspot.
'If you can wish for anything, wish for a switch to repair the ship with,' he said sagely. The others — Sturm and Kitiara included — were surprised by his wise suggestion.
'I–I wish for a new switch to repair our engine,' Rainspot said loudly.
'Made of copper,' said Cutwood.
'Iron,' muttered Bellcrank.
