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“I am not sure,” frowned Mistake. “I have been told that I have some slight abilities, but MistyTrail knows more. She healed my leg on the Island of Darkness. Surely, you can try to teach us.”

“Island of Darkness, eh?” echoed the old man. “Sounds like you two have done some traveling. You might even have a good story or two in you.”

A woman from the village walked over and stood before the old man. She put her hands on her hips and stared at him.

“Garl,” the woman said with motherly authority, “put that pipe out. You know that you should not be smoking. You think you are sneaking off here to light up, but we can smell your pipe up in the trees. Put it out now.”

The old man grumbled and tapped his pipe on the rock. The burning bocco fell to the ground and he reached down and scooped dirt over it. Only after the pipe was properly extinguished did the woman turn around and leave.

“Are pipes not allowed in Etta?” asked MistyTrail.

“They are allowed,” grumbled Garl. “Just some people stick their nose in other people’s business.”

“Then why did you put it out?” asked Mistake.

“Slari is nothing if she is not persistent,” sighed Garl. “She will stand here all day and complain if I continue to smoke. It is more pleasant around here if I put it out and wait for her to disappear.”

Garl fell quiet and stared at the ground again as if there was no one around him. Eventually, Mistake rose and stared across the glade.

“I guess we will have to sleep in the open,” Mistake said to MistyTrail.

“We have done it before,” nodded MistyTrail as she rose.

“That is it?” grumbled Garl. “How am I supposed to believe that I could actually teach either of you anything if five minutes is the limit of your interest?”

“Our interest is sincere,” replied MistyTrail, “but we would never force ourselves upon anyone. If you are willing to teach us, you will find that you have our complete attention. Will you do it?”

Garl stood up and stared at the girls. He started walking towards the glade and turned around to see the girls still standing by the rock.

“Come on,” he grumbled. “Do I have to teach the two of you how to walk, too?”

MistyTrail grinned and immediately started following Garl. Mistake hesitated, wondering if she could put up with the man’s demeanor. She shook her head and followed her sister. The old man walked clear across the glade to an old tree. His arm rose and his fingers wiggled in the air. A ladder made of rope fell out of the tree and hung from some unseen place.

Garl grabbed the rope ladder and started climbing up. MistyTrail and Mistake followed him. At the top of the ladder was a fairly large platform with a very small shack upon it. Garl opened the door to the shack and walked in.

“There are only three rooms,” Garl said. “This room is for sitting and talking and anything else you might want to do besides sleep. The room on the right is mine. Never enter it. The room on the left is for storage. You will have to find someplace to put the things that are in there, but that is where you will sleep.”

Mistake pushed the door open and peeked into the storage room. It was loaded with an odd assortment of junk. The room was so small that Mistake wondered if she and MistyTrail could even sleep side-by side after the junk was carted out.

“Where are we to put your belongings?” asked Mistake.

“You will find room for them,” shrugged Garl. “Be careful with them. They are precious. You two get settled in. I am going for a walk in the jungle. Maybe I can smoke in peace there.”

The old man left and Mistake shook her head as she surveyed the room full of junk.

“What is all this stuff?” she asked. “There are some books that look like they were tossed about. Look, a coconut. Why would he keep a coconut in his house? And bird feathers? This man is crazy, MistyTrail.”

“That is what Volox said,” chuckled MistyTrail. “I have an idea. Let’s gather and sort his belongings. We can bring them into the main room for now. Then we can get some bedding down.”

“Bedding?” frowned Mistake. “You have got to be kidding. We can’t sleep side-by-side in there without bedding. Add in all of this junk, and we are better off sleeping outside.”

“He is testing us,” countered MistyTrail. “He has given us a seemingly impossible task. I plan to find a solution.”

“What kind of solution?” asked Mistake. “Shove all the junk in his room and see if he notices?”

“No,” laughed MistyTrail. “I think we could make bunks in here, like the Khadorans have. If we create three bunks on top of one another, we can sleep in the lower two and arrange his belongings on the upper one. It would be cozy.”

“Cramped you mean,” frowned Mistake. “Alright, we can get wood easy enough in the jungle. We might even be able to hang some of his junk from the walls and ceiling. I hope this isn’t just a trick to get us to clean his shack.”

“It will be fun,” MistyTrail chirped. “He even has some tools in amongst this junk. Let’s get started.”

Mistake and MistyTrail moved the old man’s belongings out of the small room. They organized it by shape and size to get an idea of the space required for it before heading for the jungle. Mistake cut some branches up for posts and runners, while MistyTrail gathered vines, moss, and gigantic leaves from some type of plant that she had never seen before.

Some of the village children found them in the jungle and asked them what they were doing. When the girls answered, they found that they had lots of help to carry things to the base of Garl’s tree.

Mistake and MistyTrail worked through the day without stopping. When they were done, they had bunks made from stout braches and moss-filled mattresses made of leaves. All of Garl’s belongings were either hung up or arranged on the top bunk. When they heard the old man coming up the ladder, they closed the door to the small room and waited in the common room.

“There has been an awful lot of traffic below my tree,” grumbled Garl. “Are you holding a party up here?”

“We had some children carry things for us,” answered MistyTrail. “They did not come up the ladder.”

“Good,” nodded Garl as he started to open the door to the small room. “I like my privacy. I just stopped back to get some more bocco.”

“It’s on the top bunk,” offered MistyTrail.

Garl opened the door and stood staring into the room for several minutes. Finally, he entered and took a tin from the top bunk. He filled a small pouch with some bocco and placed the tin back in its proper position. He turned and smiled at the girls.

“You are resourceful and hard working,” he declared. “Tomorrow we will see if you have any magical talent. Come along. I have a duck burning over a fire. You must be hungry.”

* * *

The two Kamaril cortains stood staring at the Kamaril soldier who was standing apart from the others.

“Do you know him well?” one of the cortains asked the other as he nodded towards the odd soldier.

“I have never seen him before,” replied the second cortain. “Why do you ask?”

“I first noticed him this morning,” replied the first cortain. “He seemed dazed and confused at the morning meal as if he was unaware of the custom here on the Kamaril estate. My curiosity caused me to talk to him. He claimed that he was in your corte, yet you say that you do not know him. Is that possible?”

“No,” scowled the second cortain. “I know each of my sixty men personally. Let us go talk to him together. Something does not smell right.”

The two Kamaril cortains marched towards the odd soldier. When he saw the officers approaching, the man tried to merge into the crowd of soldiers. One of the cortains shouted for everyone to halt. The group of soldiers immediately stopped what they were doing. The grounds grew silent. The two cortains walked into the crowd of soldiers, the men parting to let the officers pass. They stood before the odd soldier and stared at him. The man fidgeted but did not speak.

“You do not belong here,” stated the first cortain. “Remove your wristbands.”