“This is where we are now,” he said.
“And where is Flotsam where we started?” Mina asked.
Nightshade pointed about a whisker’s width away.
“All this walking and we’ve only come that far!” Mina cried, shocked and dismayed.
She squatted beside the map and studied it, her lower lip thrust out. “Why do we have to go all over the place—up and down and round about? Why can’t we just go straight from here to here.”
Nightshade explained that climbing extremely tall mountains was quite difficult and dangerous, and it was much better to go around them.
“Too bad there are so many mountains,” he added. “Otherwise we could go straight as the dragon flies and it wouldn’t take long at all.”
Mina gazed thoughtfully at the dot that was Flotsam and the dot that Nightshade said was Solace, where they would find his great friend, Gerard, and the monks of Majere who would tell them where to look for Godshome.
Rhys was drifting off in a pleasant haze of twilight forgetfulness when he was jolted wide away. Nightshade let out a screech.
Rhys jumped up so fast he startled Atta, who yelped in aggravation.
“What is it?”
Nightshade pointed a quivering finger.
The map was no longer lines and squiggles drawn on the back of the kender’s old shirt. The map was a world in miniature, with real mountains and real bodies of water that shimmered in the dying light, and real windswept deserts and boggy swamps.
Thus the gods might see the world, Rhys thought to himself.
Nightshade screeched again and suddenly the kender was floating up into the air, light as thistledown. Rhys felt himself grow buoyant, his body losing weight and mass, his bones hollow as a bird’s, his flesh like a soap bubble. His feet left the ground, and he sailed upward. Atta floated toward him, legs dangling helplessly beneath her.
“Straight as the dragon flies,” Mina said.
Rhys recalled the near-drowning incident in the tower. He recalled the meat pies and the fiery conflagration that had consumed the Beloved, and he knew he had to put a stop to this. He had to take control.
“Stop it, Mina!” Rhys said sternly. “Stop it at once! Put me down this instant!”
Mina stared at him, her eyes round and starting to glisten with tears.
“Now!” he said through gritted teeth.
He felt himself grow heavy, and he fell back down to the ground. Nightshade dropped like rock, landing with a thud. Atta, once she was down, slunk off hurriedly to curl up beneath a tree, as far from Mina as possible.
Mina drifted very slowly out of the air to land in front of Rhys.
“We are walking to Solace,” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “Do you understand me, Mina? We are not swimming or flying. We are walking!”
Mina’s tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. She flung herself on the ground and began to sob.
Rhys was trembling. He had always prided himself on his discipline and here he was, yelling at a child. He was suddenly, deeply ashamed.
“I didn’t mean to shout at you, Mina—” he began wearily.
“I just wanted to get there faster!” she cried, raising a tear-stained and dirt-streaked face. “I don’t like walking. It’s boring and my feet hurt! And it’s going to take too long, forever and ever. Besides, Aunt Zeboim told me I could fly,” she added with a quiver and a hiccup.
Nightshade nudged Rhys in the ribs. “It is a long way and flying might be kind of interesting at that—”
Rhys looked at him. Nightshade gulped.
“But you’re right, of course. We should walk. That’s why the gods gave us feet and not wings. I’ll just go to bed now….”
Rhys knelt down and took Mina in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed on his shoulder. Gradually her sobs lessened, she grew quiet. Rhys, looking down at her, saw that she had cried herself to sleep. He carried her to her blanket that he’d spread on a soft bed of grass beneath a tree and laid her down. He was tucking another blanket around her when she woke up.
“Good night, Mina,” he said, and he reached out his hand to gently smooth back the hair from her forehead.
Mina grabbed hold of his hand and gave it a remorseful kiss.
“I’m sorry, Rhys,” she said. It was the first time she’d ever called him by his name and not ‘Mister Monk’. “We can walk. But could we walk fast?” she added plaintively. “I think I need to reach Godshome quickly.”
Rhys was bone-tired, or he might have thought twice before he agreed that, yes, they could “walk fast”.
3
The next day, they were in Solace.
“After all,” pointed out Nightshade, when he had recovered from the trip, “you did tell her we could walk fast.”
The morning had started well. Mina was in a chastened mood, quiet and docile. Wisps of fog rose lazily from the stream bed. They set out early with Rhys walking as fast as he thought Mina could manage. When he first saw the trees and grasslands start to slip past him, the increase in speed was so gradual that he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
But then the landscape began to slide past him at an incredible velocity. He and Nightshade, Mina and Atta continued to walk at what seemed a normal pace. Fellow travelers flashed past. Clouds raced across the sky. One moment the weather was sunny and the next rain storms soaked them, and the next moment it was sunny again. They sped through the desert. The city of Delphon was a blur of color, the city of Khuri-Khan a blast of noise and heat.
The ogres of Blöde were there, and then they weren’t. The Great Swamp was muggy and stifling and foul-smelling, but not for long.
They skimmed across the Westguard River and saw the sun sparkle on the waves of New Sea and then it was gone and the Plains of Dergoth were so much emptiness. The Lake of Death lay in eerie shadow, the White Rage River thundered past. They were in and out of Darkenwood, racing over the Plains of Abanasinia, speeding through Gateway, and here was Solace, and then everything slowed down and stopped.
Rhys was dizzy with the rapid motion and grabbed hold of a post to keep from falling. Nightshade staggered about on wobbly legs for a few moments, then gave a plaintive “Oof!” and collapsed. Atta flopped down on her side and lay there panting.
“We walked all the way!” Mina said proudly. “I did what you told me!”
Her amber eyes were clear and shining. Her smile was eager and happy. She truly believed she had done something worthy of praise, and Rhys did not have the heart to scold her. After all, they had been spared a long, difficult, and dangerous journey, and arrived safely at their destination. He could not help but be relieved. As Rhys came to realize, Mina didn’t think she’d done anything extraordinary. For her, strolling across a continent in a day was something everyone could do if he just put his mind to it.
Rhys helped Nightshade to his feet and assured Atta that all was well. Mina was looking eagerly about. She was delighted with Solace.
“The houses are built in trees!” she cried, clapping her hands. “There’s a whole city up in the trees! I want to go up there. What is that place?”
She pointed to a large building nestled in the branches of a giant vallenwood.
“That’s the Inn of the Last Home,” Nightshade stated, eagerly sniffing the air. He was feeling almost back to normal. “Boiled cabbage. Which means today must be corned beef and cabbage day. Wait until you meet Laura. She owns the Inn and she does the cooking and she’s the best cook in all of Ansalon. Then there’s our friend, Gerard, the sheriff. He’s—”
“Mina,” Rhys said, interrupting, “would you run over to that well and fetch some water for Atta?”
Mina did as she was bid, running excitedly off to the public well, taking the panting dog with her.
“I don’t think we should tell Gerard the truth about Mina,” Rhys said to Nightshade when Mina was gone. “We don’t want to strain his credulity.”