Exiles at the Well of Souls

raining on them. They all looked a mess, mud-caked, with hair tangled and mud-clumped.

Renard was disturbed. “I can’t seem to think so good,” he told her with obvious distress. “I can’t seem to think of things any more. Why is that, Mavra?”

She felt a consuming pity for the man, but she couldn’t answer his question. Nikki, of course, was even worse. She’d found a mud-puddle and was happily playing in it, splashing around and making some sort of mud cakes. She looked up as they approached.

“Hi!” she called out. She reached down and picked up a mud pie. “Thee what I made?”

Mavra sighed and thought fast. A glance at the sun had told her that they’d been moving roughly east, but how far and at what angle?

She thought fast about the pair she now had on her hands. Renard was still capable of handling himself, but for how much longer? As for Nikki—she was sinking almost before Mavra Chang’s eyes. Something had to be done to keep them under control.

She put them both under quickly, finding she had to choose her words carefully so they could follow her.

“Nikki, you don’t remember anything about who you are except that your name is Nikki. Understand?”

“Uh huh,” the girl acknowledged.

“Now, you’re a very little girl, and I am your mommy. You love your mommy and always do what she says, don’t you?”

“Uh huh,” the girl agreed.

She turned to Renard.

“Now, Renard, you don’t remember anything about who you are or who we are, only that your name is Renard. Okay?”

“All right,” he agreed.

“You are Renard. You are five years old and you are my son. I am your mommy, and you love your mommy and always do what she tells you. Understand?”

His tone became softer, more childlike. “Yes, Mommy,” he replied.

“Good,” she approved. “Now, Nikki is your sister. She is younger than you and you have to help her. Understand? You love your sister and have to help her.”

“Yes, Mommy,” he responded.

She turned back to Nikki. “Nikki, Renard is your big brother and you love him very much. You will let him help you if you have trouble.”

“Uh huh,” she responded, very childlike.

Mavra was as satisfied as she could be. She’d done this regression thing before, although under very different circumstances. She had once convinced an art-museum director that he was her son, and he’d opened the place and shut off the alarm for her. Even helped her cart stuff out. He thought he was helping his mommy move.

She would have to remember, though, that she was Mommy to two very big but definite children from now on, and act the part.

She brought them out of it. “Come on, children. We have to go now,” she said softly.

Nikki looked upset. “Ah, p’eathe, Mommy! Can’t we pway some more?”

“Not now,” she scolded gently. “We have to go. Come on, both of you give Mommy your hands.”

They went along for some time. It was difficult at times to control them as children, despite the hypnoed instructions. Kids skipped and played and generally acted up, and it took some stern acting and will power to keep them pretty much in line.

Mavra began to worry that she was wrong after all, that she would never see any mountains and a sign of an end to this strange place. Yet, the terrain was becoming hillier; the rocks were larger, and mostly igneous. They might be foothills.

And, suddenly, there they were. Not terribly tall mountains, or grand ones, but wonderful to see all the same. Gently folded, like great wrinkles in the earth, they rose up about eight hundred meters from where they stood. As with most folded mountains, though, there were frequent breaks, where streams and ice had eroded passes through the barrier. The lowest and closest of these would still require a climb of about three hundred meters, but the slope was gentle and there were many rocky outcrops for rest or shelter. They might make it over before dark if they were lucky, she thought.

There were a lot of sheep on the hillsides. She didn’t like that; in this place, where there were grazing sheep there was usually one or more giant one-eyed shepherds. She debated waiting until darkness, but she feared any more time lost. She looked carefully around, wishing she could trust them to stay put while she did a better reconnoitering job—but she dared not put them to sleep. She might not have any control later.

She decided to chance it. Taking their hands and cautioning them to be quiet, they started as quickly as possible across the open area to the first protective outcropping a few thousand meters ahead.

It looked closer than it was, and the “children” were hard to restrain as they passed close to some grazing sheep. Even as tense as she was, looking for any sign of more dangerous life, Mavra reflected how curious it was that such an animal, so common in her own part of the universe, should be here.

The outcrop loomed near now, and she almost had them running for it at full speed. Just a few seconds more… now! Made it!

There was a sudden terrible roaring sound, and they stopped dead. A massive shape, then two, suddenly rose up in front of them. Two of them! A big male and a big female, either waiting for them behind the rocks or doing their own business there. It didn’t matter.

Nikki screamed, and they all turned to run, but the creatures, once they recovered from their initial surprise, reacted very swiftly. A great hand came down and grabbed the slowest, Nikki, then tossed her like a ripe fruit to the other.

The big male came on, catching Mavra first. Although she was fast, ten of her steps were two for the giant cyclops, and she was suddenly in the grip of its huge hands. The female came up behind, took her with amazing gentleness, and went back behind the rocks.

Renard was well away when he heard Mavra cry out, and he turned to see what had happened. That proved to be enough; the great creature caught him and shrugged off his futile blows. He turned, holding the man like a large doll, and joined his mate in back of the rocks. It was a little camp, obviously a temporary shelter for the shepherds in the area. There was a crude but huge wooden lean-to, with great straw mats and large, crudely woven wool blankets, and an outside barbecue pit of some sort, with hot coals and a rotisserie of smelted iron over it. Apparently some of them liked their meat cooked; a fresh-killed and skinned sheep was on the skewer. They also saw one of those big wooden carts, and it was into this that all three were dropped. Its sides were almost three meters high.

Mavra looked around. The cart stank of things she didn’t want to know much about, and there were the remains of dried vegetation and even some of what looked like grass-roll. Nikki was huddled in a corner, crying, and Renard didn’t look or act much better.

Mavra looked around. The planks offered something of a foothold, and she still had some of the thief devices in her mud-caked boots. She might be able to get out.

She looked around at the other two. She might, but never them. Her venom was no good at all; she’d tried both kinds on the two cyclopses, and they hadn’t even noticed the scratch. Possibly their systems were too alien for it, maybe they were just of such great bulk that it would take more than she could produce to have a real effect. It made no difference. This was the end of the primary mission, and she had failed.

She peered out of a crack between the planks that was just barely accessible to her if she stood on tiptoe. The female was arguing with the male, that was obvious. There was a lot of bellowing and snorting and hand gestures, some of them unmistakable.

Finally he seemed to cave in, and went into the lean-to, coming out a moment later with a large iron screen. Mavra had a sinking feeling, which proved justified. The creature came over, looked in the cart, gave them a strange sort of leer, and slammed the heavy screen on top of the cart. He snorted once, then went away. Pretty soon, there were the sounds of munching and chewing.

Mavra looked at the screen. Its holes were a little too fine for her to get through, she could tell from the cart