Po slipped from Pearbottom and left the horse free to graze.
The mountainous Ruth sauntered at her side as they made their way to a clearing where a handcart waited for Shades—he went to it and pulled a pack from the depths. A few trees straggled their leafless boughs over the boundaries, and an old firepit simmered with smoke.
“Do you know everything?” she said quietly to Ruth, who looked down at her.
“Enough. I have been traveling for a long time.” Her brow crinkled, folding into the places on it that showed the marks of age, or lots of frowning.
“Your people rejected you? That is awful.”
“It was. I grew too large and frightened them, I think. I was a strange thing. I began as a regular dwarf child and then, as you can see, I kept going when I should have stopped.”
“Hmmm. Yes.” Po brushed off dust then sat on a smooth rock. “That’s an error a lot of people make—keeping going when they should stop. But your cause is genetic, and not your fault.”
She shrugged. “To them it made no difference, and it has taught me to be tolerant to others. It also gave me strength and that has given me the freedom to go where I wish to go. I am… moderately happy.”
“I see.”
“I like to help people find themselves, and like this—big, strong…” She gestured at her body. “I can do it a lot.”
“Of course.”
In some ways, she envied Ruth. In her, she saw a freedom she could never attain. What king or queen could roam the country helping people? Their realm would fall apart, or they would be deposed, or assassinated, both probably, with great helpings of people fighting and dying. They would no longer be rulers.
“I like you,” she told Ruth, nodding, because it seemed as if she had never told enough people that, and Ruth might appreciate it. And this, speaking her mind, was a freedom she did not often have.
“Thank you, Po. We should start a fire and help with the food.”
“Oh! Yes.”
Making things happen, like fires, was a new thing. Many things were new, including naked men and sex. Now and then, she looked at John from the corner of her eye.
After sharing the food, although there was only toasted cheesy bread and apples, Shades decided to show them what he had found. His eye lay on his palm, rolling as his hand moved. This globe of glassy metal was fitted with trails of wires at the back that bore tiny end pieces. Those were meant to plug onto parts of him inside his eye socket.
That seemed… gruesome?
“I lost it in a battle of which the remains are strewn before us. The pink banners still standing, those were once red and held the numbers of our squadrons.” He waved at their surroundings. “The mounds there are the hastily buried dead. If you step without looking, you can still find a spearhead or a helmet with your foot. Many died that day, among them my entire section. I deserted after the slaughter. I hid. I was wounded, but some townsfolk took pity on me and nursed me to health. Since my army retreated to my homeland, Socor, I don’t think my desertion will ever be punished.”
“Why were you here?” John asked, standing and stretching. “To conquer Kostan?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I marched here. I lost my comrades. Nobody told us the whys. We were fighters. Our commander said it was a grand endeavor—they always are. We fought wherever, whenever, we were told to.”
“That is harsh,” Po said. “If there were a war, every soldier of Bitzocoin would know the cause.”
“Different peoples.” He shrugged. “Different rules. But I like yours better. After two years of searching, having found what I sought, I must admit I feel lost, purposeless.”
“May I see?” She indicated the eye. The outside was silvery except where it was glassy blue at the front. When she peered closely, deep inside the translucent blue she could see concentric circles with marked gradations. One of her princess lessons had been the study of clocks, and this looked as delicate as a piece of clockwork.
Her tutors aimed to educate her in a wide range of subjects, so she could rule with wisdom. Most of which, like algebra, she thought she would never use. Clocks had been quite fun, in comparison to math, autopsies, and string theory.
“I have searched two years for this.” He closed his fingers over the eye. “Dug for it. Sweated. Unearthed bodies, bones. Said prayers over a few I recognized, in the early days. I am not sure I can do this.”
“I understand.” Po withdrew her hand. “How do you reattach it?”
“That is the difficult part. Our cyclan mechanics are not here.” Shades smiled grimly. “It would be good to see with two eyes again, and this one is my special eye.” He flicked then blew some soil from it. “Shiny, after all the years. I hope it still functions.”
“A clockmaker might manage to attach it?”
“Yes. I have the right tools, having planned for this day, but will have to seek one out.”
“Then I can do it, with good lighting and those tools.”
Taken aback, Shade pulled away then looked to John and Ruth. “Is this true? Could she? There is no clockmaker in town.”
John sucked on the side of his lip. “If she says she can, I guess she can. I would believe her. She only lies to me.”
Po scoffed. Insufferable man.
Once again, he had swung from gracious to infuriating.
“I must think on this.” Shades rose.
“Could you show me
