PART TWO:

Whose Sword is it, Anyway?

By Ralph Benedetto, Jr.

Part Two of Five

PART TWO:

Larsen

"It is, of course, undeniable that some small percentage of our scouting students perform acts that are not, strictly speaking, beneficial to the public welfare. Of course, as long as the scout isn't caught and traced back to us, the public need never know we're responsible. It is for this reason that we train all of our scouting students in Capture Avoidance Techniques. We also recommend that they start in small villages where, due to the relative inexperience of the law enforcement personnel with complex crimes, they stand a relatively good chance of getting away with whatever they decide to do."

--from a lecture given to graduate students Dagguer Kelsharin, Ss.D. Associate Professor School of Scouting, CAT division College of Ru'aath

NINE

The horses had no trouble settling down when darkness fell. They stopped dead the instant the sun dropped below the horizon and refused to move another step.

Caitlin stared at the animals angrily. "What are we going to do now?" she asked.

Mal shrugged. "Make camp," he said.

"I suppose," Caitlin replied, throwing the reins to the ground.

"Isn't this great?" Rivenbark cried happily, looking at the sky. "It's such a nice night, too!"

"Oh, shut up!" Caitlin snapped, sitting down heavily.

"Look at the stars!" Rivenbark said.

"You look at the stars," Caitlin told him.

"And I think I can see the lights of the fair," Rivenbark added, squinting back the way they had come.

"Don't remind me," Caitlin said bitterly, staring at the horses. The animals had moved along quite placidly all day at a very slow walk, despite all attempts to hurry them.

"What if the guards come after us?" Caitlin wanted to know.

"Don't worry about it," Mal suggested.

"Why not?"

He grinned ruefully at her. "There are too many other things to worry about."

Caitlin stared at him for a moment and then smiled. "I suppose you're right," she said in a tired voice. "I'm just a little on edge, I guess."

"But, why?" Rivenbark asked. "Things are going so well!"

"Why don't you cook us some dinner?" Mal asked Rivenbark. "I've got a fire going, now."

"All right!" Rivenbark agreed, bouncing lightly to his feet. He checked his pouches to make sure that he was well supplied with garlic and then tried to decide what to make.

Mal walked over and sat down beside Caitlin. She was leaning back against a tree, her eyes closed, her breathing regular. Mal simply watched her for a long time, his eyes tracing her every feature. Suddenly, she opened her eyes.

Startled and anxious to divert Caitlin's attention from the fact that he'd been staring at her, Mal blurted out, "Say...uh...Caitlin..."

She looked at him. "Yes?"

He picked up a small rock and started to play with it absently. "I've got something I'd like to..." He trailed off.

"Yes?"

He stared briefly into her eyes and then looked away. "I've...always been...uh...interested in magic. Would you teach me some?"

Caitlin frowned. She had the impression that he'd been about to say something else and had changed his mind at the last instant. She shrugged. "I'm not very good at magic," she told him.

"But I did keep all my scrolls and books. I don't know why. But, you can have them if you want, and I could try to explain anything you can't get on your own." She smiled. "Despite my grades, I did learn a few things."

"Uh...thanks," Mal replied, still looking away, his manner still oddly hesitant.

Caitlin's face brightened suddenly. "Mal," she said, a trace of excitement in her voice. "As long as we're trading skills...will you teach me to fight?"

He looked at her in astonishment. "What?"

"Will you teach me to fight?" she repeated anxiously. "That's what I wanted to go into, not magic. But they said I was too small."

Mal laughed quietly. "I know how you feel. They said I had to go into fighting because I was so big."

"Will you teach me?"

Mal frowned. "I don't know..." he began.

"Please?"

He looked at her for a moment and then nodded. "Well...all right. If you're sure that's what you want."

"Great!" Caitlin bounced to her feet. "Let's start now."

Mal smiled and then shook his head. "All right. But we have to talk a little first, so sit back down."

Caitlin dropped back to the ground, a disappointed look on her face. "Talk," she said.

"Yes, talk." Mal took a moment to organize his thoughts and then asked, "What do you think are the most important assets a fighter can have?"

Caitlin stared at him as if he'd gone crazy. "Strength!" she replied. "And size. And a good weapon."

Shaking his head, Mal said, "No. That's not it at all."

"What do you mean?" Caitlin asked with a frown. "Of course they are."

"If that was true," Mal pointed out, "You wouldn't have much hope, now would you? Those are all good things, but what a fighter needs most is intelligence, agility and skill. Those can overcome strength. All things being equal, a good big person will beat a good small person, so the small person simply has to be better than good."

"Great!" Caitlin leaped to her feet again. "I've got intelligence and agility, and I can learn the skill. Let's get to it!"

"Patience is also good," Mal added drily.

"Oh," Caitlin said, her face falling. She sat back down again.

Mal shrugged. "But we can start now, anyway."

"What do we learn first?" Caitlin asked, leaping back to her feet again. "Punching? Kicking? Vital attack spots?"

Mal cleared his throat. "Falling down," he said.

Caitlin stared at him for a few seconds, her face frozen, and then she rolled her eyes skyward. "Oh, come on!" she protested. "I can do that on my own!"

Without a word, Mal stood up, reached out, put his hand against her shoulder and shoved. She fell backwards, tripped and hit the ground heavily.

"Ow!" Her voice held a mixture of fury and pain, and she glared up at him. "That hurt!"

"It was supposed to." He squatted down beside her. "Now, listen," he said in a quiet voice. "I'm willing to teach you, but you have to be willing to be taught. If you knew how to fall, that wouldn't have hurt." He helped her to her feet and then asked, "All right?"

She grinned sheepishly at him. "All right," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm just excited. Let's do this your way."

Rivenbark dumped several cloves of garlic into the pot in front of him and watched his two friends speculatively. He was surprised at how well things were going. Oh, sure, the guards were our looking for them, their pictures were being circulated, a reward big enough to attract bounty hunters was probably being offered, and they were stuck moving at a maddeningly (at least to Caitlin) slow pace, but you couldn't expect to have everything go your way, now could you? His eyes wandered back to the pot. Maybe the stew could use a little pepper...

"No, look," Mal said. "Like this. If you do it this way, you stand less chance of getting hurtwhen you hit."

"That's easy for you to say!" Caitlin snapped, rubbing a sore wrist. "You're bigger than I am."

"That doesn't have anything to do with it," Mal responded patiently. "Just watch me."

Rivenbark casually tossed another clove of garlic into the pot and got some dried meat out of his pack. Some vegetables might add something to the stew. He reached for the pepper again. Pepper was a vegetable, right? He was sure he'd read that somewhere.

Shortly before Rivenbark's stew finished cooking, Caitlin, sore and tired but happy for all that, threw herself to the ground with a laugh. "Enough!" she cried. "Please! If I fall down again, I don't think I'll be able to get back up!" She looked over at Rivenbark. "Is the food ready yet? I'm starving!"

"Perfectly timed!" Rivenbark told her, filling up a bowl. "Here it is."

Mal was busy filling his own bowl and didn't see Caitlin take her first spoonful of stew. He heard her strangled squawk, though, and turned to see her setting the bowl hurriedly down and leaping to her feet. Her mouth was open, and she was waving her hands in front of her face.

"What is it?" Mal cried, running toward her.

Without a sound, Caitlin clawed at her pack and pulled out a waterskin. After a deep draught,she glared at Rivenbark, her eyes flaming.

"What?" Rivenbark asked, surprised. Curiously, he took a mouthful of stew and swallowed it.

"Oh," he said, nodded. "You're right. There's not enough pepper in here." He reached for his cooking supplies.

"If you touch the pepper," Caitlin warned him in a quiet tone, her voice a little rough, "You're going to be wearing that stew. There's enough pepper in there now to kill a dwarf!" She raised her waterskin again. "Not to mention garlic!"

"You don't like it?" Rivenbark asked.

"No!" Caitlin snapped. "I--"

"I have some bread and cheese in my pack," Mal broke in. "Would you like some of that?"

Caitlin looked at him gratefully. "I'd love it," she answered.

Mal got out the food and passed it over to her. He debated having some himself but decided against it. Rivenbark's feelings were already hurt. Besides, how bad could the stew be? Bracing himself, he swallowed a spoonful. It had a sharp, hot taste and burnt an acid trail down his throat. Pretty spicy, by human standards.

Rivenbark watched anxiously as Mal tasted the stew and asked, "Well, how do you like it?"

"Not bad at all," Mal replied. He smiled and ate some more. It really was quite tangy. It reminded him just a little of the summers of his childhood.

"Good," Rivenbark said, turning to his own bowl and taking a big swallow. As the stew seared its way to his stomach, it occurred to him that perhaps he had been a bit heavy handed with the pepper and a few other spices after all, but he wasn't going to admit it in front of Caitlin.

Mal was determined to make Rivenbark feel better, and Rivenbark was determined to prove to Caitlin that his stew was good, so, between the two of them, they finished the pot.

"Well," Rivenbark said finally with an elaborate yawn, "I think I'm about ready for bed." His voice was a hoarse whisper.

"Me, too," Mal agreed. His stomach was pleasantly full, and he was tired.

When they turned to Caitlin, with Rivenbark hoping she wouldn't ask him why he was whispering, they found her fast asleep.

Slowly, Rivenbark and Mal made themselves comfortable. Rivenbark was planning to wait until Mal fell asleep and then make a mad dash for the waterskins. Mal, however, put his hands beneath his head and gazed up at the night sky thoughtfully, obviously in no real hurry to get to sleep. Rivenbark grimaced and settled in, trying not to think about the state of his throat. All in all, he thought, it was shaping up into a very long night.

TEN

When Rivenbark and Caitlin awoke the next morning, Caitlin well rested and Rivenbark showing the wear and tear of a restless night, Mal was already up and reading. He was halfway through a large book that he had taken from Caitlin's pack. He looked up when he heard his friends stirring. "Breakfast is over there," he said, pointing to a pile of berries he had picked. "I've already eaten." He returned his attention to the book.

"How long have you been up?" Caitlin asked.

"When did you get to sleep?" Rivenbark asked.

Mal shrugged. "I don't know," he replied in a distracted voice, turning a page.

Rivenbark shrugged and began to eat the berries, taking care not to get any of the purple juice on his tunic. It was, after all, his second best, and very stylish. Your clothing makes a statement to the world about who you are. Caitlin joined him, and they made short work of breakfast. They made sure the fire was out, repacked the baggage and set out again with the horses in tow. The animals still refused to move above a slow walk, and Caitlin quickly began to fume.

"Oh, calm down!" Rivenbark advised her cheerfully. "It's too nice a day to start off in a bad mood! Right, Mal?"

"Hmm?" Mal asked.

"Oh, will you put that stupid book down!" Caitlin snapped. "Even if you do read it all in one day, you can't expect to learn the fundamentals of magic that fast!"

Mal shrugged and closed the book. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "It really doesn't seem all that difficult to me."

Caitlin whirled on him, her eyes bright. "Are you calling me stupid?!" she yelled furiously.

Taken aback, Mal stopped in midstride. One of the horses nudged him from behind, and he stumbled. "What?" he asked in confusion. "I mean wha--uh...but...I didn't..." He was shaking his head, his face flushed, stumbling over his words. He felt heat rising along the back of his neck.

Caitlin stared at him for a long moment and then turned away. Mal, angry and confused, started after her. Rivenbark walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"What did I do?" Mal asked frantically. "I didn't do anything."

"Don't forget why Kate's with us," Rivenbark said quietly. "She flunked out of the magic program."

Mal slapped a hand against his forehead. "Oh!" he cried. "And I was going on about how easy it was!" There was a pause. "I'd better..."

"I wouldn't," Rivenbark warned him.

"What?"

"Apologize," Rivenbark said. He nodded in Caitlin's direction. "She knows you didn't mean anything. She's just upset at the horses, and she took it out on you. If you go apologize, it'll just make her feel worse, and she'll probably yell at you some more, and everybody will just get even more upset. Leave her alone, and she'll get over it."

Suddenly, Caitlin turned and stomped toward Mal and Rivenbark.

"See," Rivenbark said. "I bet she's coming to apologize to you right now."

Mal shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "She looks--"

"Can't you speed those horses up?!" Caitlin yelled. "I thought you grew up on a farm! That means you should be able to handle animals! Do something!!"

"Yelling won't help," Rivenbark pointed out. "Why don't you just ask them nicely to please go faster?"

"Rivenbark..." Caitlin said warningly. She glared at him. His face held a look of innocence too pure to be within his acting ability.

"Maybe," Rivenbark suggested, "If they understood what was going on a little better, you know, if they realized the urgency of the situation, they'd go faster."

"What--" Caitlin began.

Rivenbark turned to the horses and held out one hand. "Hold it a minute, gang," he said brightly. The horses obediently stopped and stared at him.

"Rivenbark..." Caitlin tried again.

"Do you mind?" Rivenbark asked her. "I'm trying to talk to the horses." He turned his attention to the animals again, and Caitlin walked over to stand beside Mal.

"Does he have any idea what he's doing?" she asked.

Mal smiled. "With Rivenbark, it's difficult to be sure."

Rivenbark had adopted a lecturing pose in front of the horses. They appeared to be staring at him, waiting patiently.

"Now," Rivenbark said, "I'd just like to talk to you three a minute about..." He stopped and shook his head. "No, wait. I can't talk to you properly unless you have names."

He scratched his head and looked thoughtful. "Now, what would be good names...?"

"Rivenbark..." Caitlin said.

"No, that won't do," Rivenbark told her. "That's my name, and it would get confusing if we called one of the horses that, too."

The middle horse whinnied. Caitlin could almost imagine that it was laughing at her.

"No," she said. "I didn't--" Then she realized that she was trying to explain herself to a horse and stopped.

"I know!" Rivenbark cried suddenly. He looked at one of the horses. "Norris," he said. He moved his gaze to the second horse. "Ewyn," he told it. He turned to the third horse. "And you're...Alison."

"Ewyn?" Caitlin asked. The middle horse looked at her and whinnied again.

Taking a deep breath, Rivenbark eyed the horses and said, "I don't think you're going quite as fast as you can. Now, I realize that no one has taken the time to explain to you how vital our mission is and how important it is that we hurry along, so that's what I want to do now."

Mal watched Rivenbark with a bemused expression on his face. Caitlin shook her head sadly. The horses stared first at Rivenbark and then at each other, as if they were silently exchanging disparaging comments about this brightly garbed and highly animated lunatic who was standing in front of them.

"There are dwarves at Fang Mountain starving, waiting to get this food!"

"Starving?" Caitlin asked Mal quietly.

Mal shrugged and gestured toward Rivenbark. "It's his speech."

"All because you three won't give that little extra that I know is in you! Just dig a little deeper and go the extra mile!"

"Faster," Caitlin added.

"Go the extra mile faster!" Rivenbark cried, waving his arms. "Norris, are you listening to me?"

Norris, who had pulled up a mouthful of grass and begun to chew, stopped and stared at Rivenbark, long stalks of grass hanging out of both sides of his suddenly motionless mouth. He shook his head from side to side and started chewing again.

"Now, see, that's just the sort of thing I'm talking about!" Rivenbark said, pointing at Norris. "You're not giving your all!"

"I don't think they're giving anything," Caitlin whispered to Mal.

Ewyn's ears twitched, but she didn't take her eyes off of Rivenbark's face.

"Now," Rivenbark continued, "What I want to see...what I need to see is a little dedication to the cause here! Are you with me?!"

Ewyn and Alison whinnied, but Norris, who was standing between them, stood mute. Alison and Ewyn butted him in the ribs, and he made an explosive grunting noise and then followed it up with a whinny. All three horses looked at Rivenbark expectantly.

"Rivenbark," Caitlin broke in. "Can we just get moving now?"

"Right!" Rivenbark cried, turning toward her. "Here we go!" He turned back to the horses. "Now, come on, gang! You must know how much dwarves like Growler food! Don't forget, you're on a mission, here! Let's do it! Forward!!!"

He pointed in the direction of their destination with a flourish and started off at a rapid pace. The horses looked at each other again and then fell in behind him. Keeping up with him, much to Caitlin's surprise.

"It's all in how you talk to them," Rivenbark told Caitlin with a nod. He looked back at the horses and smiled at them. "All in how you talk to them."

Caitlin shook her head but smiled in spite of herself. Rivenbark's antics had improved her mood, and the horses were moving faster.

The hours passed quickly, and they finally began to make good time.

As day succeeded day, they continued to make good time and eventually fell into a routine. They would rise at sun-up, eat breakfast and set out. They would travel until dusk, when the horses would abruptly stop. Caitlin and Rivenbark would set up the campsite while Mal gathered wood and lit a fire. Caitlin would practice her fighting skills under Mal's instruction, while Rivenbark, with most of his spices confiscated, would make supper. Mal studied thebooks Caitlin had given him as they traveled through the day. After supper, they would sit and talk until they fell asleep.

As week followed week in this way, even Caitlin began to think that the rest of the journey to Fang Mountain might prove uneventful.

She was wrong.

ELEVEN

For several days, they had been following a caravan trail toward the mountains, which were finally visible in the distance. Periodically, the trees would thin out, and the ground would rise around them as the trail dipped into a ravine.

As they approached one of these ravines, Mal was in the middle of lecturing Caitlin on the finer points of combat.

"So it doesn't do any good to be the most skilled fighter in the world if somebody sneaks up behind you and hits you on the head with a club."

"Well, how can you prevent that?" Caitlin wanted to know. "I mean, I don't have eyes in the back of my head."

"You have to be...aware," Mal responded. "You have to be...attentive." He paused, trying to find the right words to frame his thought. "You have to learn to sense what's around you and to react almost without thinking."

Caitlin shook her head. "Why did you flunk out, Mal? You seem to have it all down."

He shrugged and half smiled. "I'm clumsy," he said simply. "I have a tendency to fall over my own feet." He looked at trail and shook his head. "Not a good thing for a fighter. Besides...I just couldn't do it."

"Do what?"

Mal shrugged again and continued to look at the ground. "The whole thing. Train to kill people. I was never any good at it. I understood how to do it, but not how to make myself do it."

As they walked, the trail narrowed and sloped downward while high rock walls closed in on either side. Suddenly, a shrill shout cut through the air. It was a piercing sound that echoed weirdly off the close rock walls.

Caitlin jumped in fright and looked around, her heart beating rapidly, just in time to see Rivenbark, some distance down the trail, shriek again.

"What are you doing?!" she screamed at him. "You nearly scared me to death!"

"The echoes in this place are great!" Rivenbark said. "Listen." He opened his mouth to yell a third time, but Mal caught up with him and laid a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"That might not be the wisest thing to do," he suggested.

"What's the matter?" Rivenbark wanted to know. "I'm just making echoes."

Mal looked cautiously around. A short distance ahead, the trail widened somewhat. "We're not that far away from the mountains," he said, "and not everything that lives around here is...welcoming."

They had continued to walk, and just as they reached the spot where the trail broadened again,and Caitlin asked, "What do you mean?" a loud shout came rolling from the rocks around them. It was a high pitched squeal that seemed to multiply even as it echoed and fragmented into a series of sharp barking noises.

Before anyone could react, a multitude of creatures seemed to pour out of the ground, the rock walls, perhaps the very sky, coming on them from all sides like a living stream, flowing around and over them. The creatures were humanoid in shape, perhaps three feet tall, with grayish-black skin. Loose slobbering lips were pulled back to reveal rows of small pointed teeth. There seemed to be an endless number of them.

Rivenbark froze in terror as the creatures washed around him, pummeling him, scratching at his skin, tugging at his garments until the cloth gave, clutching at the possessions hanging from his belt and strapped to his back. He felt teeth nipping at his flesh, unable to the skin but pinching painfully.

He remained absolutely motionless as the horde rushed on, around and then past him. In the confusion, it never even occurred to Caitlin to try out any of her fighting skills. Hairy arms plucked at her clothing, and she was buffeted from all sides and then knocked down. She wrapped her arms around her head as small forms stepped on and across her body. Something tugged at her pack until the straps gave, and she felt herself being kicked and punched, though the blows were really too light to hurt her seriously.

Mal saw the oncoming horde and just had time to brace himself before the first of the creatures reached him. He liked to make his choices judiciously, with a great deal of thought invested in each one, and one of the things that he had always hated about fighting was that you never had time to think about things, you just had to do them. The one area of fighting that he had excelled at was weaponless combat. That is, he could perform the moves perfectly in practice. In actual combat, he either tended to wait too long to attack or to rush things and mix himself up.

The first creature to reach him was the most unfortunate. People, he had trouble with, but goblins, he could hit. He saw the first one coming, had enough time to prepare, and greeted i twith a solid punch in the nose. It's shriek of pain was lost in the general racket, but it flew several feet backward into the arms of its fellows. That was enough for the others. The stream of goblins continued to flow forward, but it broke upon Mal like water on a huge rock, splitting and going around him instead of trying to go over him. As they passed, they still swiped at him, and, no matter which way he turned, there were always several of the creatures at his back reaching for his gear.

The entire incident lasted only a moment. An unimaginable horde of the creatures burst out of hiding, flowed inexorably down the trail, screaming, yelping, clutching and were gone.

Caitlin remained lying on the ground wrapped up into a ball until a pair of huge, gentle hands scooped her up and she heard Mal asked her if she was all right. Slowly, she uncurled, and then she clung to him for a moment, her body shaking, before she regained control of herself.

"My pack," she said as Mal reluctantly set her on her feet again. "They took my pack."

"They took everything," Mal told her as he walked toward Rivenbark who was motionless, staring down the trail. "I don't know how they managed it so quickly, but they cleaned us out."

Mal laid a hand on Rivenbark's shoulder and shook him gently, calling his name.

For a moment, there was no reaction, and then Rivenbark began to shake. The spasm passed quickly, he blinked, and then he looked around as if in a daze.

"What happened?" he asked.

"They didn't get the Growler food," Caitlin said. The others looked, and Norris, Ewyn and Alison were untouched, the bundles they carried undisturbed.

"What were they?" Rivenbark asked, trying to look in every direction at once.

"Goblins," Mal said distastefully. "Scavengers."

"What are we going to do now?" Caitlin wanted to know. "They got our packs, every pouch off my belt." She looked at her two friends. "All our money and supplies are gone."

There was a long moment of silence, and then it hit them all at the same time.

"Oh, no..." Caitlin whispered.

Mal frowned and started to shake his head.

"The sword!" Rivenbark howled. "They took the sword! Now I'll never get back into school!"

"Mal, we've got to get it back," Caitlin said.

"I know," Mal replied. "Just stay calm."

"Stay calm?" Caitlin asked in a tight voice. "Stay calm?! Don't you realize what this means?" Her voice began to rise in pitch. "If we lose that sword, they won't stop looking for us until we die!"

"Caitlin." Mal's voice was even quieter than usual, but something in it cut through Caitlin's rising hysteria, and she was suddenly calm again.

"You know, I never even thought to defend myself," she said suddenly, surprised. "I'm going to have to do better than this."

Mal shrugged. "You just--"

"Why do you suppose they left the horses alone?" Rivenbark asked suddenly.

Mal smiled. "That's an easy one. The boxes have Growler runes on them. If the goblins had spoiled the food, they would have had every dwarf in Fang Mountain out for revenge. You don't get in between a dwarf and Growler food."

"We've got to get the sword back," Caitlin said, feeling that the conversation was starting to stray from the main point. "How are we going to do that?"

"Simple!" Rivenbark cried.

Caitlin winced. Every time Rivenbark said that something was going to be simple...

"I mean, we know which way they went, right?."

"We could hardly have missed it, with so many of them headed that way," Caitlin agreed wryly.

"So, let's just go after them and take the sword back."

"Oh, and all of our other stuff, too, I suppose?"

Rivenbark nodded, missing Caitlin's sarcasm entirely. "Right!"

Caitlin very calmly walked up to Rivenbark and smacked him on the head.

"Perhaps you didn't notice," she said quietly, "But we're a little outnumbered here."

"Well," Mal broke in hesitantly, "We certainly won't get anything back just standing around here. We might, at least, take a look at where they went."

"It's a start!" Rivenbark agreed. "Let's go!"

"You know, Mal," Caitlin said as she watched Rivenbark run back down the path, "I really don't think you should encourage him like that."

TWELVE

Caitlin and Mal found Rivenbark staring in consternation at a wall of solid rock thirty feet high.

"Where did they go?" Rivenbark asked. "I swear they were headed in this direction. They went this way."

Caitlin stared at him. His brightly colored and usually immaculate clothing was spattered with dirt, and his tunic had a long tear running down one side. There was something about the look in his eyes that made her feel a little nervous.

"Rivenbark," she said very carefully, "That's rock."

"I know it's rock. I can see that it's rock. I don't care that it's rock. That is the way they went."

"How?"

"Well...I don't know," he admitted. "But they didn't go up or down the trail, they didn't vanish into thin air, they can't fly, and I would have seen them if they'd gone up the wall."

Caitlin wasn't so certain that Rivenbark would have seen them if they had danced a jig around his head, but she didn't say anything about it out loud.

"That doesn't leave very much," Mal pointed out.

"I know. Somehow, they went through this wall!"

"Rivenbark," Caitlin said again, still very carefully, "That's rock."

Rivenbark didn't say anything in response, just waved his hands in frustration, and they all stared at the rock for awhile, but all they saw was a sheer and solid stone wall criss-crossed by minute stress fracture lines.

"Maybe," Caitlin said hesitantly, "They used some kind of spell to get through..."

Mal frowned. "I don't think so," he said. "I've been...well, practicing. You know, attentiveness to the energy fields. I think that I might have noticed if they had used a spell. A big one, at least."

Caitlin looked at him. "It's only been a couple of months, Mal. You haven't been doing this very long."

Mal was clearly uncomfortable. "I know," he said. "But I really am starting to get it." He paused. "And I just think--"

"What are we going to do?" Rivenbark broke in. "Stand here and let them get away?" His voice rose to a wail. "If we do that, I'll never get back into--"

"Rivenbark!" Caitlin snapped.

"Listen," Mal said, interrupting them both, his voice even more hesitant. "I have an idea. There's this spell in one of the books..."

"The took all the books," Caitlin pointed out.

"And the sword," Rivenbark felt compelled to add.

"I know..." Mal agreed, "But...well...I was reading over this spell not too long ago, and I think I can remember it..."

"You think--" Caitlin began.

"Well, most of it."

"Now, listen, Mal! Magic isn't something you just fool around with. If you don't--"

"If he remembers most of it," Rivenbark said hopefully, "Maybe the rest will come back to him as he says it!"

"And maybe it won't!" Caitlin argued.

"You're probably right," Mal told Rivenbark.

"But--" Caitlin said.

"It's worth a try!" Rivenbark said persuasively. "If it doesn't work, we're no worse off then we are now!" He was almost dancing at the thought that the sword wasn't lost forever.

"Lis--" Caitlin tried again.

"Right," Mal agreed. He frowned in thought as he stared at the rock wall. "Stop that."

That last was directed at Caitlin, who was punching Mal as hard as she could.

"Listen to me!" she snapped. "You don't know what you're doing!"

"Now, Kate--" Rivenbark began, but she turned on him, her voice vicious.

"Shut up, Rivenbark! You know even less than he does!"

She glared first at one of them, then at the other. "Do you know how magic works?" There was no answer. "Well, do you?"

Mal shrugged. "Well, sure," he said.

"How?"

"Well...there are energy patterns all over the world."

"Such as?" Caitlin prompted, when Mal showed no inclination to continue the explanation.

"Such as the force that pulls a floating lodestone or the forces that drive the winds."

"Go on..."

"We're wasting time!" Rivenbark said, but the look Caitlin gave him was so sharp and so intense that he lapsed back into silence immediately.

"Well, there are also energy patterns within a person."

"There are?" This intrigued Rivenbark. "What do you mean?"

"Well...someone who knows how to detect the energy patterns can sense each beat of your heart because there is an energy pulse associated with it. And the could tell whether you were awake or asleep by the energy patterns around and inside your skull."

"Right," Caitlin said. "And how does magic work?"

"Well...you use your own energy patterns..." Mal frowned in thought, trying to remember the exact words he had read, "You allow them to interact with the global energy patterns. Using physical gestures and precise vocal cues, you can divert a portion of the global energy flow, internalize it, and manipulate it to achieve a desired result." He smiled, pleased with himself and the knowledge he had demonstrated.

"Wow!" Rivenbark was impressed.

"You got the words right," Caitlin said, "But do you realize what you said? If you do this wrong, you could interrupt your own energy pattern."

"What happens if he does that?" Rivenbark asked.

"He dies."

"Oh."

"Or," Caitlin continued, "You could lose control of the energy flow after you internalize it."

"What happens if he does that?"

"He explodes."

"Oh." Rivenbark shuffled a few steps farther away from Mal.

"Or you could divert the energy flow incorrectly." Caitlin looked at Rivenbark, continuing before he had a chance to ask the question. "What happens then depends on exactly what goes wrong. Maybe the energy just dissipates. Maybe it causes something other than what you expected. Maybe nothing, maybe total disaster. Is that really something you want to risk?"

She looked from Mal to Rivenbark and back again several times while they both thought about it.

"Caitlin," Mal said quietly. "The thing is this: either we do this or we give up and remain hunted criminals for the rest of our lives. What choice do we really have?"

There was a long moment, and then Caitlin's body sagged in defeat. "I'll be over there." She walked quickly away and put the horses between herself and Mal.

Norris and Ewyn looked at each other and then walked around and stood behind Caitlin so that she was shielding them instead of the other way around.

"Hey!" Caitlin cried, moving behind them again. "Stop that!"

"Come on, Mal!" Rivenbark cheered enthusiastically. "You can do it!"

Slowly, his eyes closed, Mal extended his right arm, his hand, palm open, facing the wall. He rotated his arm, tracing a large circle with his hands. He repeated the circling movement twice, muttering quietly to himself. Then he closed his hand in to a fist and opened it suddenly.

There was a flash of oddly dark light that left Caitlin half blind, tears pouring from her eyes, and a tremendous noise that left her ears ringing.

When Caitlin's vision cleared, the first thing she noticed was that the rock wall was unchanged, as far as she could tell. The second was a cloud of dust obscuring the spot where Mal and Rivenbark had been standing. Unable to breathe past a sudden tightness in her chest, Caitlin ran over to the spot where she had last seen her friends.

"Mal? Rivenbark? Are you all right? Where are you?"

She waved her hands in front of her, trying to clear some of the dust away, looking frantically around. She spotted Mal, curled into a ball on the ground, and ran to him.

"Mal?" Was that her voice, so weak and shaky? She knelt beside him and found that he was breathing. "Mal?" Her voice was very soft. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"I..." She had never heard Mal's voice so weak before. He stopped after the first word and forced himself to uncurl, rolling over onto his back as he did so. Caitlin took his hand, and he blinked up at her and tried again to speak. The words came out very slowly, with long spaces between them.

"I...think...my...heart..." There was a very long pause. "Stopped...for...a...moment..." He closed his eyes and just concentrated on the fact that he was alive. The pain that had blossomed somewhere deep inside him was receding. Breathe in, breathe out. Keep breathing in and out.

"How's..."

Caitlin looked around, her grip on Mal's hand tightening. "Rivenbark!" she called.

"Helllloooooo!" Rivenbark's voice sounded far away.

"I'm...all...right..." Mal assured her slowly. "Go...look..."

Reluctantly, Caitlin laid Mal's hand down, stood up and began looking for Rivenbark. It only took her a moment to find him.

Mal's spell had opened up not the wall, but the ground. Rivenbark was standing at the bottom of a very deep hole, jumping up and down trying to reach the lip of the hole to pull himself out.

Relief, along with the sight of Rivenbark leaping frantically up and down, was too much. Caitlin's sides began to shake. Quietly at first, and then louder, laughter began to well up inside her, until she was laughing so hard that she was barely able to stand.

"Oh, very funny," Rivenbark said drily, looking up at her. "Now, would you mind helping me out of here?"

"How," Caitlin gasped out between laughs, "Do you expect me to get you out?"

"I'll do it." Mal's voice was still weak, but he was on his feet and standing beside her. At the sight of his pale face, Caitlin's laughter died away again.

She watched Mal kneel down at the edge of the pit and stretch out a hand. Rivenbark jumped up and caught it, and Mal heaved him up and out of the pit.

Mal climbed carefully to his feet again and looked at Caitlin. A sheen of sweat covered his face. "You were right," he said. "Next time I'll try something less dangerous." His breathing was still uneven, and his words were punctuated by quick gasps.

"At least you're both alive," Caitlin said. "But we aren't any closer to getting the sword."

Rivenbark walked over to the rock wall and began to stare at the minute lines that scored the stone. "You know," he suggested, tracing one of the lines with his finger, "Maybe we're trying to make this too complicated."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Caitlin said drily.

"What do you mean?" Mal asked.

Rivenbark continued to explore the stone with his finger. "There could just be a hidden catch here, somewhere. We studied secret doors in school."

"Oh?" Caitlin asked drily, "And, how did you do in that class?"

Rivenbark continued to stare at the fine network of cracks, now running both palms over the rough surface. "Just a little pressure in the right spot might..." A sharp click sounded from somewhere not far away. Rivenbark, still pressing against the stone, fell forward, landing flat on his face as the hidden door swung inward, revealing a long, dark tunnel.

Standing just in front of Rivenbark was a very surprised looking goblin.

The startled creature stared at the three humans for a moment, and then it turned to runscreaming down the tunnel. As it started to take off, however, Rivenbark reached out and grabbed one of the goblin's ankles, tripping it.

"Wonderful!" Caitlin exclaimed, running forward and pinning the goblin down, holding it's mouth closed and trying not to let it bite her.

"But, what do we do with it now that we've got it?" Rivenbark asked, climbing to his feet.

"Kill it!" Caitlin answered quickly. "Otherwise it'll warn the others."

Rivenbark looked questioningly at Mal, who was staring at Caitlin. "All right," Mal said, his eyes strangely dark. Rivenbark's jaw dropped in surprise. Mal had eyes only for Caitlin. "But you do it," he told her.

There was a pause as some of Caitlin's enthusiasm seemed to leak away. "But..." she said, "Uh...me?"

Mal nodded, his face impassive.

Caitlin looked down at the goblin still struggling beneath her. "But...I mean...I don't know how."

"That's simple enough," Mal told her calmly. "Just grab a rock and bash its skull in."

Caitlin continued to stare down at the goblin as nausea welled up inside her. "Couldn't we just tie it up...or something?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Mal said, his face relaxing. "I think we could do that."

"What are we going to tie it up with?" Rivenbark asked.

"We'll use some of the lead lines from the horses," Mal told him.

"Beautiful!" Rivenbark cried. "I'll go get them!"

He took off running. Caitlin and Mall could hear his voice drifting back to them. "Hey, Allison! Ewyn! Guess what?"

A shrill whinny mingled with Rivenbark's last words.

"Yes!" he yelled. "And Norris, too!"

Caitlin looked up at Mal. After a long pause, she asked, "Should I have just learned something?"

Mal shrugged. "You'll have to work that one out on your own."

Caitlin frowned. "Mal," she began, but Rivenbark's return interrupted her.

"Got it!" he cried, waving a length of line in the air. "Let's wrap him up!"

As Mal tied the Goblin up, Caitlin was struck with a thought. "How are we going to keep him quiet?" she asked. "Knock him out?"

"I'm not sure that it matters," Mal said, "Given the amount of noise that we've already made, but I suppose we could gag him."

"With what?"

Rivenbark looked ruefully down at his once stylish tunic. Aside from assorted stains that would probably never come out, it had a jagged tear running up one side.

"Oh, well," he said. "It's too far gone to save now." He ripped a strip of cloth free and handed it to Caitlin. "Try this," he offered.

Caitlin nodded, took the cloth, and used it to gag the goblin, barely escaping getting bitten in the process.

"Now," Mal said, hoisting the goblin up into the air. "Let's tuck our little friend here into a nice, dark corner." He set the captive down out of sight and then turned to his two friends.

Rivenbark nodded to him, grinning. "Things are breaking our way again!" he said happily.

"Let's go get our sword back!"

THIRTEEN

The tunnel that stretched before them was badly lit by several guttering torches that were jammed into crudely made wall sconces placed at irregular intervals along the walls.

"At least it isn't smelly and damp in here," Rivenbark pointed out in a whisper as they filed down the tunnel.

"I'd be surprised if it was," Mal told him. "These tunnels are dwarven made."

"How can you tell?" Caitlin asked.

Mal shook his head. "Goblins never cut these tunnels. Straight as an arrow with smooth drywalls. Look at the scoring pattern on the floor. Had to be dwarves." He pointed to one of the crude wall sconces. "Now, that's probably goblin work."

"Well, where are all the dwarves now?" Rivenbark wanted to know.

Mal shrugged. "No idea. Maybe they wanted to get closer to the mountains."

"Too bad," Caitlin commented drily. "We could use their help getting our stuff back."

Mal opened his mouth to say something in reply, but a shrill scream cut him off.

"What was that?" Rivenbark whispered tightly, his eyes darting back and forth. The screamed swelled as it echoed off the rock walls, and it was impossible for him to tell exactly where it came from. It unnerved him.

"Shh." Mal hissed. "We must be getting close to the goblins."

A short distance ahead, just around a bend in the tunnel, the goblins appeared to be attempting to divide up the spoils of their theft. The packs and satchels had been torn open, their contents scattered across the floor of a large chamber seething with goblins. The sword, along with Mal's precious books on magic, were in a pile off to one side.

Two of the goblins were arguing violently over Rivenbark's spice pouch. A third smaller goblin was standing under the pouch while his two larger cousins played tug of war with it. Reaching up a jagged claw, the small goblin tore a hole in the pouch, grabbed the cloves of garlic that tumbled out and stuffed them into his mouth.

Caitlin and Rivenbark both winced, Caitlin in sympathy for the goblin and Rivenbark because he didn't know where he was going to get more garlic for their next meal.

Three goblins were having an argument over who got Rivenbark's third best tunic, a bright orange one with splashes of red and yellow on it. They eventually ripped the tunic into strips which they wrapped around themselves, while Rivenbark moaned in quiet dismay.

Several other squabbles were going on throughout the chamber, wherever a choice bit of booty had fallen when the packs had been torn open.

"We'll never get to the sword with all of them in there!" Caitlin whispered, aghast, her eyes fixed on the boiling crowd of goblins jammed into the chamber. "There must be two hundred of them at least!" She pulled her head back around the corner to look at her friends. "What are we going to do?"

"You suggested the answer a few minutes ago," Mal whispered back with a smile. "We'll just get a little help from the dwarves."

"What are you talking about?" Caitlin snapped. "There aren't any "

"Rivenbark," Mal said, "Go back to the horses and get one of the boxes of Growler food."

"Oh, brilliant," Caitlin said. "Let's all just have a nice meal right here, why don't we?"

"Listen," Mal explained, "We'll open the box. Growler food is usually...well, the smell carries. It'll make the Goblins think that there are dwarves somewhere around, and we'll make a little noise to drive the point home. With any luck, they'll panic and run, and we can just walk in and get our things back."

"That," Caitlin said quietly, "has got to be one of the stupidest plans I've heard since Rivenbark came up with the idea of stealing that idiotic sword in the first place!"

"It's brilliant!" Rivenbark said, a little too loudly. Fortunately, the Goblins were making enough noise themselves to drown him out. Without another word, he turned and darted silently back up the tunnel.

"And now we just sit and wait for him, I suppose?" Caitlin asked.

Mal nodded.

"Well, I hope he hurries." As Caitlin finished speaking, she stuck her head around the corner for another look at the goblins, only to find herself staring one in the face. With a startled scream, she jumped back, bumping into Mal.

The goblin barked a sharp word, and several of the creatures swarmed out, surrounded Caitlin and Mal and hustled them into the middle of the chamber.

The goblins swirled around the two friends, poking and prodding them. Mal wrapped aprotective arm around Caitlin and used his free hand to fend the goblins off. Caitlin pushed Mal's arm away and started punching every goblin she could reach.

Suddenly, Mal dredged a guttural cough from the depths of his chest. Caitlin stared at him in surprise, but the goblins all froze, motionless and silent.

"What--" Caitlin began, but Mal cut her off.

"Ktan daar!" He said loudly, his voice a bass rumble.

"What are you doing?" Caitlin whispered.

"It's dwarvish," Mal told her, his eyes on the panicky goblins. "A loose translation would be'help.'"

At that moment, several of the goblins tilted their head upward, sniffing the air tentatively, and a confused babbling broke out among them.

"Ktan daar chaul!" Mal bellowed.

Out in the tunnel, they heard the echoes of what sounded like an army on the move, drawing rapidly nearer. The goblins scattered wildly, disappearing into various tunnels with cries off right, leaving Caitlin and Mal alone. The army drew closer and then stopped out of sight down the tunnel. Caitlin noticed a sharp, tangy aroma filling the air.

Suddenly, Rivenbark poked his head around the corner, grinning. "How'd it go?" He asked. Then, noticing the complete absence of goblins, he added, "Pretty well, I'd guess. Outstanding!"

Caitlin stepped away from Mal and cast a puzzled glance at Rivenbark. "Who's with you?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"We heard the footsteps."

Rivenbark smiled. "Oh, that," he said. He looked over his shoulder. "Come on," he said, and Ewyn stuck her head around the corner and whinnied, quickly followed by Allison and Norris. "I figured it would help the illusion if I had some extra feet," Rivenbark explained.

Caitlin smiled and shook her head. "Good idea."

Mal walked over and began to gather the scattered gear together. "We'd better hurry up and get out of here," he told the others. "Goblins scare easily, but they'll be back, and they won't be happy."

Following his lead, Caitlin and Rivenbark began to shove their supplies into their packs, which were torn but still serviceable.

"Look at this!" Caitlin groaned in dismay. "They've spoiled all the food!"

"Never mind," Mal said, jamming the last of the magic books back into his pack.

"What if they follow us?" Caitlin wanted to know. "What then?"

Mal shrugged and started back down the tunnel. "With any luck, they won't. Goblins are terrified of dwarves. If they think we're traveling in their company, they'll stay as far away from us as they can. Anyway, they're scavengers. They don't like to work that hard."

"How far should we go before we take a break?" Rivenbark asked. "I didn't really have time to check out the state of my spare tunics, and "

"Really, Rivenbark," Caitlin said, cutting him off. "I think we have more important things to worry about than your clothes."

"Clothes," insisted Rivenbark as they stepped out of the tunnel and back into the sunlight, "make the man."

"Yes, I think that about covers it," Caitlin agreed with a laugh.

Ruefully, Rivenbark looked down at his torn, tattered and stained clothing. "Fortunately, some of us have the ability to rise above such things. Even bad clothes can look good if you wear them with style."

"Let's go, you two!" Mal called.

Arguing had slowed Caitlin and Rivenbark down, and the horses had slowed down to keep pace with Rivenbark. Even since he'd named them, they had followed him devotedly.

Mal looked back toward the entrance to the goblins' tunnel. "We need to get as far away from here as we can before dark."

FOURTEEN

There was no sign that the goblins were pursuing them, and they spent an uneventful night after recovering their gear. Rivenbark's sewing kit had been recovered intact, and he spent most of the evening repairing the damage that had been done to his spare clothes.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and Mal was up early studying. Even after they set out once again, Mal kept his face buried in a scroll.

Finally, after they had been walking for nearly two hours, he put the scroll away and began searching the ground. He quickly found what he was looking for and then tapped Rivenbark on the shoulder, holding out a hand with three pine cones in it.

"For me?" Rivenbark asked in apparent delight. "Why, thank you. I--"

"I want you to throw them at me."

Rivenbark threw his hands up in mock horror. "I could never return a gift in so cavalier a manner," he cried.

"Wait until I tell you," Mal said patiently, "and then throw them at me."

Caitlin walked over to stand beside Rivenbark, and the horses stopped walking and stood patiently behind him.

Mal carefully paced off ten feet from this group, turned to face them, made several cryptic gestures, uttered a single incomprehensible word and then waved at Rivenbark. "All right," he said. "Throw one."

Rivenbark wound up and threw. The pine cone sailed through the air and scored a direct hit on Mal's nose. At the look of surprise on Mal's face, Caitlin doubled over laughing.

"Is that what you wanted to happen?" Rivenbark asked.

"Wait a minute," Mal said, rubbing his nose. He closed his eyes in thought, mumbling to himself. After a moment, his face cleared, and he nodded. "All right," he said.

Rivenbark tossed a second pine cone. This one bounced off Mal's forehead.

"Not yet!" Mal cried. He had to raise his voice to be heard over Caitlin's laughter. He made a quick pass with his hands and snapped a single syllable. A breath of wind passed across them, and static electricity made the air tingle.

"Throw it now."

With a shrug, Rivenbark tossed his final cone. Just before it reached Mal, it jogged slightly, as if it had run into something. It had been a bad throw and would have missed Mal entirely, but the bump changed its path, and it bounced off the side of Mal's head instead.

"That's very good," Rivenbark said, much impressed. "It doesn't seem very useful, though."

"I...uh...I think I need to study a little more," Mal said sheepishly, carefully not looking at Caitlin, who was lying on the ground, holding her sides and laughing loudly. "You," Caitlin said, gasping, "Could be almost as good as I was if you practice a little more."

"But...you...got kicked out..." Mal said.

"I know," Caitlin agreed. "That's what I meant!"

"And I suppose," Mal said drily, "That you're already a great fighter?"

Caitlin smiled mischievously at him. "That's right," she said with a sharp nod, standing up.

"I've learned a lot already."

"All right," Mal said. "Show me."

"Great!" Caitlin cried happily. "Come at me."

Rivenbark sat back against a tree and watched carefully. The sight of Mal, so much bigger than Caitlin, advancing on her, made him smile. He exchanged a glance with Norris.

Mal reached Caitlin, and then Caitlin became a blur of motion. Arms and legs flailed, and then, when the dust cleared, Caitlin was bent over, tugging on one of Mal's arms, while he smiled patiently down at her.

"All right," she said after a moment, "Maybe I'm not so good either." She grinned and stuck her hand out for Mal to shake. "I guess we could both use a little more practice." Mal grinned back at her and shook her hand. "Yeah."

"Shall we get moving again?" Rivenbark asked, standing up. "I mean, if you two are finished?"

"All right."

"Well, no," said a strange voice.

The speaker turned out to be a tall think man armed with a crossbow, which he had loaded and cocked. Beside him was a second man, somewhat shorter and armed with a sling and a short sword. Both men were dressed in identical uniforms. The three friends stared at them, startled.

"I would greatly appreciate it," said the taller of the two men, "If you would all kindly refrain from moving."

Allison whinnied in a questioning manner, and Rivenbark said, "Yes, I would imagine he means you, too."

"Who are you?" Mal asked quietly.

"Deputies from the town of Larsen," the man replied.

"And you're coming with us," his companion added. "We've got a wanted poster for the three of you." His eyes bugged out slightly as he spoke, and Mal began to wonder how experienced the fellow was.

"Well," Rivenbark said cheerfully, "I guess that by now just about everybody has a..."

Caitlin carefully slammed her elbow into Rivenbark's stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air.

"None of that!" the second deputy said quickly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Caitlin said brightly. "Look, I don't know who you think we are or what you think that we're wanted for, but there's obviously been some kind of mistake."

"There's no mistake," the tall deputy said. "The three of you are wanted for pig painting."

There was a very long silence, and the Mal asked, "What's--"

"You know very well!" the second deputy said, "It's the offense of painting lewd and obscene messages on people's pigs!"

Caitlin snorted loudly. "You're arresting us for that?!"

"It's offending the ladies!" the first deputy cried. "And sorry I am to discover that one of the criminals is a woman as pretty as yourself, miss."

"Look," Caitlin began.

"Now, if you'd all just move along into town, I'd be right pleased." The man gestured with his crossbow.

"Well, sure I am that ya'll would!" Caitlin said in a broad parody of the man's accent. "But--"

"Now, look, missy," the deputy interrupted. "I'd be right pleased if you didn't mistake politeness for lack of dedication to my job."

Caitlin blinked at him in silence and then said, "Excuse me?"

"He means," explained the second deputy, "That if you don't come along nice and peaceful like, you're going to come along nice and unconscious like."

"Now, Fyrdy," the first deputy said.

"Well, it's true, ain't it?" Fyrdy snapped. "And we do want to get them back before the day's out."

The first deputy turned back to the group. "Well, " he said in resignation, "He is right."

Caitlin chose that moment to launch herself at the man. Mal cried, "No!" and tried to stop her, but he wasn't quite quick enough. Unfortunately, Caitlin misjudged the distance, landed two feet in front of the man, slipped and ended up flat on her back.

"Very pretty, miss," the tall deputy said in appreciation. "Are you a dancer?"

"No," Caitlin said through clenched teeth. "I'm not. Can we just get on with the arrest now, please?"

"Why, surely!" the deputy said. "Are those your horses?"

"Yes," Caitlin sighed, getting up. "They are. Are you going to arrest them, too?"

The deputy scratched his head. "Well, he said, "I don't rightly see how we can, but I reckon we'll have to impound 'em. Let's go."

The two deputies led their prisoners, horses and all, to a wide path a short distance away. Fyrdy walked in front to lead the way while the other deputy walked in the rear to keep an eye oneveryone. In this way, after a walk of nearly half an hour, they reached a small town.

The collection of dilapidated buildings that lined Larsen's main street appeared devoid of inhabitants. A scrawny dog sunned itself in the middle of the road.

"Where is everyone?" Caitlin asked Mal.

Mal shrugged, but the tall deputy overheard Caitlin's question and told her, "It ain't late enough in the day for people to be home yet. Everyone's out working."

"All the honest people, anyway," Frydy added pointedly.

"Doesn't anybody work in town?" Rivenbark asked, looking around. It seemed to him to be an astoundingly dull place to be locked up. Of course, it would give him a chance to test out his escape skills. The thought lent an extra bounce to his step.

"A few," the tall deputy said. "They just ain't out and about at the moment, I guess. Probably over at the tavern."

Fyrdy, still at the front of the group, turned and entered a small stout building.

"This is it," the other deputy said. "Y'all just go on in, and I'll take your horses out to the stable for you."

"Oh, thanks ever so much," Caitlin said bitterly.

"Oh, well, it's no problem," the man replied. "But...uh...don't you think you might have these poor fellows a little heavily loaded? I never did see so few people with so much stuff."

"They aren't all fellows," Rivenbark said sharply, accompanied by offended whinnies from Ewyn and Alison.

"And it isn't all our gear," Mal added.

"What?!" the deputy cried. "Stealing as well as pig painting?! I think you'd better just get on inside and have a talk with the sheriff."

"Great, Mal," Caitlin said quietly. "Just great."

The inside of the building was well lit by lanterns as well as by what little sunlight managed to make its way through the small windows. It consisted of one large room with two cells in the back. Fyrdy was busy talking to a tall, sturdily built man who was, presumably, the sheriff.

"And so," Fyrdy finished, "We just rounded 'em up and brought 'em in."

Shaking his head sadly, the sheriff turned to look at the three companions. "Well, well, well," he said in a hearty voice. "Pig painting." He looked at Caitlin. "And I sure am sorry to see that one of the culprits is a young lady as pretty as yourself, miss."

Caitlin sighed. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.

He shook his head again. "This is a serious thing you kids have done, you know."

"What makes you think it was us?" Caitlin asked.

Rivenbark wasn't paying any attention at all. Aside from an early field trip, this was his first time in a real jail, and he was curious. Mal was standing patiently, waiting for something tohappen.

"How do we know?" the sheriff asked. "Why, Fyrdy here saw you on one of those wanted posters, that's how."

The sheriff gestured to his desk which was littered with papers. They covered the desk top to a depth of several inches and overflowed onto the floor. Caitlin stared at them curiously.

"Now, I hope you all realize the seriousness of this crime. Pig painting is not something that we take lightly here in Larsen."

Caitlin idly let her gaze wander over the papers on the floor. Fyrdy was sorting through those on the desk, trying to find the pig painting wanted poster.

"At the very least," the sheriff continued, "You're gonna have to clean up them pigs."

Suddenly, Caitlin's eyes widened, and she gasped audibly. On the floor, just beside Fyrdy's foot, was a picture of her face. The two men beside her were presumably supposed to be Mal and Rivenbark, but they were virtually unrecognizable. Her own face, however, had been reproduced perfectly. The legend across the top of the poster said that they were wanted by the College of Ru'aath for theft of historical artifacts, a crime that carried a fifty year prison sentence. Caitlin paled and almost fell.

"Whoa, there, now," the sheriff said, rushing to Caitlin's side. "Just calm down. Cleaning up pigs isn't all that bad a business." He led Caitlin over to a chair and then went to get her a glass of water. Fyrdy continued to look through the pile of papers on the desk.

Rivenbark and Mal hovered anxiously at Caitlin's side.

"Are you all right?" Mal asked.

"Don't worry," Rivenbark added. "I'm sure he's telling the truth about cleaning up pigs not being--"

"They've got the real poster here!" Caitlin hissed through clenched teeth. "It's on the floor by that deputy's foot!"

Mal started to open his mouth, and then the sheriff returned with Caitlin's water.

"Now, you just drink this all up, and I'm sure you'll feel better," he said in a kindly voice. "And don't worry about--"

"Aha!" Fyrdy cried in a triumphant voice. "There it is!" He was looking down at the floor and spotted Caitlin's picture. The section of the poster with the charge on it was under the desk out of his sight. As the three friends watched in dismay, he bent down to pick the poster up.

FIFTEEN

At that moment, there was a high pitched yell from just outside the door, and the deputy who had taken the horses to be stabled staggered through the door wrestling with a small prisoner.

They stumbled into the room and slammed into the desk which overturned in an explosion of paper and knocked Fyrdy against the wall. The poster he'd been reaching for was lost in a shower of similar documents.

It finally took both deputies and the sheriff as well to get a firm grip on the prisoner, who was screaming furiously in a strange language.

"What in the world..." Caitlin began. Though obviously an adult, the prisoner was shorter than a dwarf, though less stocky and more agile, with long fingers and a hairless face.

"He's a puddlian," Mal said in surprise.

"A what?" Rivenbark asked.

"A puddlian," Mal said again. "They tend to live in deep forest or remote hilly regions. You don't see them much anywhere else. Most of them hate human cities."

"I've never seen one before," Caitlin commented.

"I have!" Rivenbark said, snapping his fingers. "There are a few of them at the college. There was this one...he could take a lock apart faster than most other people could open one with a key." He shook his head in admiration. "He was good."

"Yeah, well this one doesn't appear to be too happy," Caitlin said drily.

Holding the still screaming puddlian tightly, the sheriff and his two deputies managed to wrestle him into a cell and slam the door. The puddlian threw himself against the bars and continued haranguing his captors.

Mal shook his head. "Whew!" he said weakly. "That is a fellow with a diverse vocabulary.

"You can understand him?" Rivenbark asked in surprise.

"A little," Mal admitted. "I'm not fluent, but I can get by."

While Rivenbark and Mal had watched the sheriff and his men fight with the puddlian, Caitlin had gone over to the papers scattered all over the floor and begun to search through them hastily.

"Well, that's mighty decent of you," the sheriff said when he spotted her. "Helping to clean up that mess. I can see that you must have been dragged into this by disreputable people masquerading as your friends."

Turning to look at Rivenbark, he continued, "I'm sorry to say, son, that you're about as disreputable looking a fellow as I've seen in some time."

"What do you mean?!" Rivenbark cried, offended. Just about the only aspect of crowd infiltration class he had not flunked was Looking Like a Respectable Citizen.

"Well," the sheriff said with a wave of his hand, "Look at those bright, fancy clothes of yours and that..." he stopped and leaned forward, "Say, that is supposed to be a moustache, isn't it?"

Rivenbark's face flushed and his mouth opened and closed a few times, though nothing came out.

"You probably don't eat right," the sheriff continued. "That's why you can't grow a proper moustache. And you," he said, turning to Mal. "You're obviously a nice farm boy. What are you doing hanging out with his type?"

Mal opened his mouth and sort of shrugged, but he was spared having to think of something to say.

"Hey, now what have you got there?" Fyrdy suddenly cried, pointing at Caitlin. She was holding a wanted poster in her hand and smiling at it in obvious relief. Startled by the cry, she looked guiltily up at the sheriff.

"All right now," he said, holding out his hand. "It's nice of you to help us clean up, but you shouldn't actually be reading any of them posters. Those are official property, so just hand that over to me, if you please."

Caitlin stared at him defiantly for a moment and then wadded the poster into a ball.

"Hey, now!" The sheriff cried. "Now, look missy, you just give me that poster before you do something you'll regret in later life."

Caitlin bit her lip in dismay and then, with a sudden mischievous grin of triumph, shoved the ball of paper down the front of her tunic.

"All right!" the sheriff exploded. "Now, you give that back!"

"Come and get it," Caitlin said with a laugh. "You know where it is."

The sheriff stared at Caitlin for a moment, his face growing redder, and then he yelled, "Deputies, throw these three vandals in a cell and lock the door on 'em!"

"All in the same cell?" Fyrdy asked. "I mean, well, one of 'em's a woman, sheriff."

"We only have one empty cell, Fyrdy," the sheriff said. "Now lock 'em up in it!!!" In frustration, he turned and kicked at the nearest thing he could find, which turned out to be the mound of wanted posters. Paper swirled into the air and floated gracefully down around the sheriff's feet. "And clean this mess up!!" he roared, storming out of the building and slamming the door behind him.

"Whew!" Fyrdy sighed. "Ya'll sure did get on the sheriff's bad side. Not a great idea, since he's also the justice here and'll be the one to hand out your sentence. Put all your possessions on the desk here."

While Mal, Caitlin and Rivenbark took off their packs, Fyrdy glanced at his companion. "I never seen him that upset before! How 'bout you, Paton?"

That tall deputy shrugged and said, "Well, there was the time those guys let the goats into the tavern's supply room..."

"I don't know..." Fyrdy commented, herding the prisoners into the cell empty cell and ignoring the still raving puddlian. "But, speaking of the tavern's supply room, how 'bout a drink now that we've got these criminals all secured?"

"All right," Paton agreed. "Say, how about the time old Fenric's cow..." His voice faded away as the two deputies shut the door behind them.

"Well, this is just fine!" Caitlin said bitterly, digging the poster out of her tunic and unfolding it.

The puddlian watched her carefully and then said something in his native tongue that caused Mal to flinch slightly.

"What did he say?" Rivenbark asked in a cheerful tone.

"Um...never mind." He turned to Caitlin. "You're just lucky those three didn't come after that poster.

"What are we going to do?" Caitlin asked, waving the poster around. "I mean, look at this! It's a perfect likeness of me."

The puddlian said something else.

"No," Mal told him.

"You've got to admire skill like that," Rivenbark said, peering over Caitlin's shoulder at the poster. "I mean, anyone who can so instill a portrait with a person's character that--"

"Will you be quiet?" Caitlin snapped. "You don't seem to realize just how much trouble we're in!! We've got to get rid of this thing!" She began to tear the poster into very small pieces.

The puddlian began to sing quietly, as if to himself. Mal's eyes widened in dismay, and the puddlian winked broadly at him and gestured toward Caitlin. Mal studiously ignored him.

"Oh, what are you worried about?" Rivenbark asked. "Didn't you see the lock on our cell door? I can have us out of here in no time!"

Caitlin rolled her eyes heavanward and turned away while Rivenbark continued to rhapsodize.

"I mean, it's a Strindberg 248-d! That thing's been out of date for at least ten years! I can have that open in two seconds flat. All you do, see," he moved around so that Caitlin was facing him again, "all you do is put the pick in with a left handed twist, slide over like so, then, at a sixty-two degree angle you--"

Caitlin leaned against the wall and looked tired. "Right," she said. "And what are you going to use for a lockpick?"

"Why, I'll just..." Rivenbark paused. "Oh," he said. "They took our stuff, didn't they?"

"Yes!" Caitlin told him. "They did. And you're just lucky they haven't searched it yet and found your tools."

"You know what?" Rivenbark asked.

"What?"

"I think we're in trouble."

Caitlin stared at him in silence for a moment and then turned away to finish tearing up the poster.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of the puddlian whistling. Irritated, Caitlin turned to him and said, "Look, why don't you just..." Then she trailed off as she realized that he was holding a thin piece of metal between his thumb and forefinger and smiling.

Caitlin tapped Rivenbark on the shoulder and pointed. Rivenbark turned to look. "A lockpick!"

He cried. "Just what we need!! What do you want for it?"

The puddlian began to smile in a manner that Caitlin found disconcerting. Then he nodded in her direction and uttered a few quick monosyllables.

"No!" Mal said sharply. "You can just forget it!"

"What does he want?" Rivenbark asked innocently.

"I think I can guess," Caitlin said.

The puddlian said something else and then winked at Caitlin.

"Now, look!" Mal said, his face beginning to flush. Caitlin stared at him in surprise. It was the first time she'd ever seen him really angry.

The puddlian laughed, dangled the lockpick invitingly, spoke for nearly a full minute and then topped it off with a leer.

Mal threw himself against the bars between the two cells and tried to grab the puddlian, who simply danced out of reach, laughing, and continued to dangle the lockpick. He then made several injudicious comments that only increased Mal's anger. Rivenbark and Caitlin, both astonished at Mal's reaction, tried to pull him away from the bars.

Mal shrugged, shaking them both off. Then, planting his feet firmly, Mal grabbed two of the bars and began to pull.

The puddlian laughed and began to speak at length while staring at Caitlin.

With an enraged roar, Mal redoubled his efforts, his arms and back rippling with the strain. Sweat began to roll down his cheeks.

The puddlian watched with interest as Mal's face grew red and began to shade toward purple. He started to laugh again, and then he realized that the bars were starting to bend. With a yelp, he ran toward to door and tried to slip the lockpick into the lock, but his hands were beginning to shake slightly.

Mal continued to pull and then, with a sharp crack, one of the bars jerked loose from the floor. The puddlian looked back over his shoulder and his eyes began to bug out slightly. He turned his attention back to the lock, but he was so nervous that he couldn't get his fingers to do what he wanted them to.

Mal concentrated his efforts on the other bar, and it bent sharply in two. Breathing heavily, Mal squeezed through the open space and into the puddlian's cell.

"Oh..heh heh...here you go," the puddlian said suddenly. "Why don't you...uh...why don't you take this?" He handed Mal the lockpick and tried very hard to look innocent.

"Hey, I understood that!" Rivenbark cried.

"I think I'm glad I didn't understand the rest of what he said," Caitlin eyes, her wide eyes still fixed on Mal.

Mal took the lockpick, let out a deep shuddering breath and then said, "Thank you." Turning, he walked back between the bent and broken bars and handed the lockpick to Rivenbark. "Here you go," he said quietly. "Why don't you open the door?"

Caitlin stared at Mal almost as if he were a stranger while Rivenbark bent to the door. After a moment, there was a metallic clang.

"Sorry about that," Rivenbark said. "Dropped the lockpick."

"Mal...?" Caitlin asked hesitantly. "Are you...all right?"

"Oh, sure," Mal answered with a smile. "Fine."

She looked at the bent metal bar and said, "I didn't know you could..."

Mal shrugged. "Neither did I," he said.

The two deputies chose that moment to return, dragging three prisoners behind them and smiling apologetically.

"Uh...looks like we might have made a slight mistake," Paton said.

"Uh...yeah," Fyrdy agreed. "These are the pig painters. Old man Coppard caught 'em red handed out at his place." He laughed self-consciously.

"So I guess we ought to let you folks go, huh?" Paton finished.

"The sheriff says we can forget about that little...um...incident..." Fyrdy said, with a look at Caitlin. "He'd rather ya'll just leave."

Rivenbark looked up at the two men and tried to hide the lockpick.

"Say..." Paton asked suddenly. "What happened to them bars?"

"Termites," Caitlin told him. "This place is infested." She glanced briefly at the puddlian. "Are you going to let us out, now?"

"Um...okay..." Paton said, still looking at the damaged bars. "You'll find your horses right outside. We seen the addresses on the boxes and realized that you're just making a delivery, right?"

"Right."

Paton opened the door, and the three friends stepped out of the cell.

"Thanks very much," Rivenbark said.

"Oh, quite all right," Fyrdy said. "I'm real sorry about all of this." He ushered the actual pig painters into the cell and closed the door. Then he turned back and cleared his throat nervously. "Say...you won't...uh...mention this to anyone, will you? You know...in town, I mean?"

Caitlin turned to look at him. "You don't want us to?" She asked.

"Well, no..." Paton told her. "We'd just as soon you didn't."

"You see," added Fyrdy, "we've made a few innocent mistakes now and again, and we wouldn't want anything else that might upset the townsfolk to get out, if you see what we...uh...mean."

"Well," Caitlin said slowly, "I don't see any reason why anyone else has to hear about this."

"Oh, good..." Fyrdy began.

"Assuming, that is," Caitlin continued, "that I get a good night's sleep tonight."

"Beg pardon?" Paton asked.

"The kind you can only get in a nice soft bed," Caitlin explained. "After you've eaten a good hot meal."

The deputies began to look confused.

"Is there an inn in this town?" Caitlin asked.

"Yes."

"Then, I suggest that one of you get over there and get us some rooms. Paid for, of course. The other one can carry our gear over there. Oh, and don't forget to leave money for supper. And breakfast tomorrow. Oh, and stabling for the horses, and a little extra for some drinks, all right?"

"Oh," Paton said. "I see. Yes, well, that sounds perfectly fair to me. We'll just do that then...uh...okay?"

"Right," Fyrdy agreed.

"Right," said Caitlin. She smiled very sweetly at both deputies and then at the puddlian. Then she turned to Rivenbark and Mal. "Come on," she said. "Let's go see what the food at the inn is like, shall we?"

To Be Continued

Bio:"I am a college biology teacher living in the southeastern US with my wife, one dog, and one cat, which is plenty of cats but several dogs too few. All in all, I think the universe is a lot sillier than we can possibly imagine, which won't stop me from trying."