Darius was more cautious. “Why do we spend much time in this reality?” he asked Provos.
“Because we were blocked from the Virtual Mode.” She had evidently waited before answering, considering the question.
“What?” Colene had jumped again.
Provos spoke, and Seqiro brought the meaning to her mind. “There is a magic spell which prevents us from passing back through the anchor. We think it is because of the animus.”
“The what?”
“It becomes complicated to explain. You have done a better job of it.”
Meaning that in due course Colene would figure it out herself and explain it to the others. Maybe that was best. Anyway, they could use some rest in a single universe before tackling the rigors of the Virtual Mode again. “So take us to the castle, Nona,” she said.
“Maybe I should do it,” Stave suggested, his thought similarly translated. “I have less to hide from the despots.”
Nona considered. “Would you, Stave?” And from her came gratitude bordering on love.
Stave looked at her, startled. He had a similar feeling for her, but had not realized that it was so strongly returned. They had never been telepathically linked before.
“We will keep each other’s secrets,” Colene said.
They walked down the hill, away from the sea. The landscape was spread out before them: walled fields, patches of trees, a sprinkling of houses, and the escarpments leading up to the castle. Down in a hollow was a village, and now there was a path leading to it. It was quite pleasant, to Colene’s taste.
Nona separated from the group and went toward the village, while Stave led the way in the other direction, toward the castle. There seemed to be no mechanized transport for theows, or any other kind; people walked. Yet the houses did not look primitive. Archaic, rustic, minimal, perhaps, but not the type she would have expected on a world without heavy transport.
“The despots use the horses,” Stave explained, responding to her thought. “They control everything.” Then he had another thought, which Seqiro duly transferred: “This mind-magic—the despots will guess, if I respond to your thoughts. I must say I know nothing of you, but led you here.”
“That is true,” Colene agreed. “You do know nothing of us, and are leading us there.”
He smiled. “But I hope to learn more, if we meet again.”
Colene glanced at Provos. “Some of us spent much time with him, and liked him well,” the older woman said. “Perhaps too well. He is much a man.”
That future memory was unnerving at times! But also frustrating. How were they going to experience Stave’s manliness? “Then maybe I should explain a bit more to you,” Colene said to him. “We are from another reality. The world you know is only one of many.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “The despots try to hide the information from us, but we know that there are worlds beyond counting, if only we were allowed to walk to them. But the despots control the filaments, so we can not.”
These folk knew of alternate realities? That was surprising. And what did he mean by filaments? So she sought a clarification of his concept of worlds—and got only a mental picture of planets strung together like beads, the string between them winding in fancy patterns. Obviously not the same thing. Primitive mythology, perhaps.
“You do not understand?” Stave asked, picking up her return thought. “How can you not, since you come from another world?”
“My world is the same as yours, only not the same,” she said. “It is in a different plane of reality. So it has different people, and maybe different geography, and different laws of nature, but it is not removed in space or time from yours, exactly. We have established a Virtual Mode, with Nona as an anchor person.”
He shook his head. “That is beyond my understanding!”
“Just as your concept is beyond mine,” she said. “Later on we’ll get together and hassle this out. For now, just accept the fact that we are stranger to you than we look. We’ll just follow you up to the castle, and you do your duty and turn us in, and go away. We’ll get in touch with you later.”
Stave wasn’t satisfied with that. “The despots may mean you ill. They treat everyone with contempt. Do not trust them.”
“We don’t,” she assured him. “We can read their minds.”
Only if they allow it, Seqiro reminded her.
Oops! She had become so accustomed to the free expression among the four of them—herself, Darius, Provos, and Seqiro—that she had forgotten this was because they were all willing. A person could close his mind, if he knew how, and strangers tended to be closed anyway, because they were apt to be suspicious or hostile.
“But they will want to communicate with us, to question us,” Darius said. “Therefore they will open their minds as we become responsive.”
She nodded. That made sense. “But how do they treat horses?” she asked Stave.
“Well, if they are docile. But once they take your horse, they will not give him back unless you satisfy them that you are despots from another center.”
“Another center?” Darius asked.
“There are hundreds of despot territories, all across the planet,” Stave explained. “All oppress their theows similarly, and though they may contest with each other for dominance, they are united against theows. Only a despot has any rights, in his home territory or when traveling through others.”
Colene patted Seqiro on the shoulder. “They will not take this horse.” Nevertheless, she suffered a qualm. She had had some experience with a despotic regime.
Provos laughed. “They try!” she said.
“Do they take Seqiro?” Darius asked Provos.
Colene had not gotten used to the business of Provos sometimes answering questions before they were asked, but it made sense in her terms.
“Yes,” Provos said. “All seven.”
“So we will escape as a group,” Darius said. “But not through the anchor. But do we get through the anchor eventually?” This was the question Provos had just answered.
“So we’ll just have to play it through,” Colene said. Given the assurance that they would get away, she preferred to avoid further confusing hints of the future. What was this “seven” business? Only five could use an anchor. It was complicated for any others.
A blackbird flew toward them. “Stop talking,” Stave said quickly. “The minions of the despots can hear and comprehend, and if they think we understand each other, there will be much mischief. Pretend I have tricked you into following.”
Colene liked the way his mind worked. He might be a peasant, but he was no fool.
The blackbird circled them, then flew on toward the castle ahead. “They can see things from a distance,” Stave murmured almost inaudibly; the telepathy carried his thought. “But they usually need a familiar to hear. They have surely seen us coming from afar.”
They came to the castle. It had seemed small from across the valley, but it had grown inversely as the distance diminished, and now was huge. In fact it seemed more like a massively walled city, with the turrets of many buildings within its compound. Colene realized that either the theows had to work here in great numbers, or there were many more people in the ruling class than she had thought.
Stave approached the guard at the gate, a man in a black tunic who carried a formidable sword. “I found these three people and their horse near the sea,” he explained. “I brought them here to you, as is proper. They don’t seem to speak our language.”
Before the guard could answer, the castle gate opened. A grim contingent of interior guards marched out. They approached the party, orienting on Stave. “What is this, theow?” the head guard demanded. Seqiro picked up the thought from Stave’s mind; the guards were hostile, so their minds were closed.