But still Haplo didn’t speak the runes.
What if he flew toward the light, and his lord was wrong about this world?
What if it turned out to be like their ancient world—a planet orbiting a sun set in cold, black and empty space? I could end up flying into a void, flying on and on until death claimed me. At least now, I have sighted what I hope and believe are clouds and where there are clouds there might be land. My Lord is my master. I will obey him unquesrioningly in all things. He is wise, intelligent, all-knowing. I will obey. I will…
Haplo lifted his hands from the steering stone. Turning away moodily, he walked over to the window and stared outside.
“There it is, boy,” he murmured.
The dog, hearing the troubled tone of his master’s voice, whined in sympathy and brushed his tail against the floor to indicate he was there if Haplo needed him. “Land. At last. We’ve made it!” He was certain beyond a doubt. The clouds had parted. He could see dark green beneath them. Flying nearer, he saw the dark green separate into varying shades of green—patches that ranged from a light grayish green to a deep blue-green to a mottled, yellow and emerald green.
“How can I turn back?”
To do so would be illogical, a part of him reasoned. You will land here, make contact with the people as you have been ordered to do, then, upon leaving, you can fly out and investigate the sparkling light.
That made sense, and Haplo was relieved. Never one to waste his time in useless self-recrimination or self-analysis, the Patryn went about his duties calmly, making the ship ready for landing. The dog, sensing his master’s growing excitement, jumped about him, nipped at him playfully. But beneath the excitement and sense of victory and elation ran an undercurrent of darkness. These last few moments had been a dreadful epiphany. Haplo felt unclean, unworthy. He had dared admit to himself that his lord might be fallible.
The ship sailed nearer to the land mass and Haplo realized, for the first time, how fast he’d been traveling. It seemed the ground was hurtling toward him, and he was forced to rechannel the magic in the runes on the wings—a maneuver that reduced the speed and slowed his descent. He could actually make out trees and broad, empty expanses of green that appeared to be suitable for landing. Rying over a sea, he discerned in the distance other bodies of water—lakes and rivers, which he could only barely see for the thick growth of vegetation surrounding them. But he found no signs of civilization. On and on he flew, skimming over the treetops, and saw no cities, no castles, no walls. At length, weary of watching the endless expanse of green unroll beneath him, Haplo slumped down on the floor in front of the tall windows. The dog had gone to sleep. No ships upon the seas or boats upon the lakes. No roads crisscrossed the open expanses, no bridges spanned the rivers. According to the records left in the Nexus by the Sartan, this realm should be peopled by elves and humans and dwarfs and perhaps even the Sartan themselves. But if so, where were they? Surely he would have seen some sign of them by now! Or maybe not.
Haplo began, for the first time, to truly envision and understand the enormity of this world. Tens of millions could inhabit it, and he might never find them, though he spent a lifetime in the search. Entire cities might lurk beneath the dense covering of trees and remain invisible to the eye peering down from above. No way to find them, no way to detect their existence except by landing and trying to penetrate that thick green mass.
“This is impossible!” Haplo muttered.
The dog woke up and nuzzled his master’s hand with a cold nose. Haplo stroked the soft fur, absently ruffled the silky ears. The dog, sighing, relaxed and closed its eyes.
“It would take an army of us to search this land! And then maybe we wouldn’t find anything. Perhaps we shouldn’t bother. I—What the—Stop! Wait a minute!” Haplo jumped to his feet, startling the dog, who leapt up and began to bark. Hands on the steering stone, Haplo sent the ship into a slow turn, staring down below him into a small, light-colored patch of grayish green.
“Yes! There it is!” he cried wildly, pointing out the window, as though exhibiting his discovery to an audience of hundreds instead of one black—and-white dog.
Tiny bursts of light, all different colors, followed by small puffs of black, were plainly visible against the green. He had caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye and turned back to make sure. A moment’s pause, and they appeared again. It could be a-natural phenomenon, he told himself, forcing himself to calm down, appalled at his own lack of control. No matter. He would land and check it out. At least he’d get off this blasted ship, breathe fresh air.
Haplo circled, descending, the bursts of light guiding him. Coming down below the level of the very tallest trees, he saw a sight that would have caused him to thank his god for a miracle, if he had believed in any god to thank. A structure, obviously built by hands guided by a brain, stood next to the open area. The bursts of light were coming from that particular spot. And now he could distinguish people, small forms like bugs standing in the gray-green expanse. The bursts of light began appearing with more frequency now, as if in excitement. It looked as if the lights were shooting forth from out of the midst of the group of people. Haplo was prepared to meet the inhabitants of this new world. He had his story ready, one similar to that which he’d told the dwarf, Limbeck, on Arianus. I’m from another part of Pryan, my people (depending on circumstances as he found them) are exactly like you—fighting for their freedom from oppressors. We have won our battle and I have gone forth to help free others. Of course, there was always the possibility that these people—elves, humans, and dwarves—were living in peace and tranquility with each other, that they had no oppressors, that all was progressing nicely under the rule of the Sartan and they didn’t need freeing, thank you. Haplo considered this possibility and, grinning, rejected it. Worlds changed, one factor remained constant. It simply wasn’t a mensch’s nature to live in harmony with his fellow mensch.[24]
Haplo could see the people on the ground clearly now and he knew that they could see him. People were rushing out of the structure, peering up into the sky. Others were running up the hillside toward the bursts of light. He could begin to make out what appeared to be a large city hidden beneath the overspreading tree branches. Through a break in the jungle growth, he saw a lake surrounded by enormous structures with cultivated gardens and vast expanses of smooth green lawn.
Closer still, and he saw the people staring up at his winged dragonship, its body and head painted so cunningly that it might appear to those below to be a real dragon. He noted that many people were refusing to venture into the open area where it must by now be obvious that Haplo was going to land. They huddled in the shelter of trees, curious, but too prudent to move any doser. Haplo was, in fact, rather astonished to note that all the people weren’t fleeing in panic at his approach. But several of them, two in particular, stood right underneath him, heads tilted upward, hands lifted to shield their eyes from the rays of the blazing sun. He could see one of them—a figure clad in flowing, mouse-colored robes—making gestures with his arms, pointing out a cleared area. If it hadn’t been too impossible to even consider, Haplo might have supposed he was expected!
“I’ve been up here too long,” he said to the dog. Feet planted firmly, the animal was staring out the ship’s large windows, barking frantically at the people below.
Haplo had no time to continue watching. Hands on the steering stone, he called upon the runes to slow Dragon Wing, keep the ship steady, and bring it safely to rest. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, the robed figure hopping up and down, waving a disreputable old hat in the air.
24
A word used by both Sartan and Patryn to designate those of the “lower” races—human, elf, and dwarf. Applies to all equally.