“Not at all,” FalconEye shook his head, “but other thoughts cloud my mind. While I agree with our policy of sharing our food, I also am wary enough to expect trouble in return for our kindness. I believe that is why I was chosen to accompany you.”
“So you are to watch my back in case of trouble?” asked the driver.
“Exactly,” nodded FalconEye. “My mouth will remain closed while we are in the city. Yours will be the voice of Sakova while we are here. Turn here.”
SpringThaw turned to the left and traveled along a lesser street. She looked back to make sure that the other wagons followed and then concentrated on navigating the narrow street. Several blocks along the street, FalconEye signaled for another turn.
“There it is,” pointed FalconEye as a new building came into view. “That will be Temiker’s new school. We will stop there to find out where we are supposed to deliver this food.”
SpringThaw angled her wagon towards the left side of the street. She smoothly brought it to a halt in front of the magic school. The mage, Temiker, was already standing outside the building. He waved cheerily at the caravan.
“You made good time,” greeted Lyra’s uncle. “Take a short break and have some food. Then I will take you to the Imperial Guard.”
“What about the food?” questioned FalconEye. “Someone might steal some of it while we are inside.”
“And what if they do?” smiled Temiker. “These people are starving. If some should get a few handfuls before the others, it will not matter in the long run. Go inside and refresh yourselves.”
The six Sakovans jumped off the wagons and hurried inside the school. When Temiker turned to join them, he saw a brown streak separate from the last wagon and dash into the alley alongside the school. His brow creased with curiosity. Quietly he stole along the street to the corner of the schoolhouse.
After the fire that had burned the last schoolhouse, Temiker had purchased a larger portion of land to build his new school. Park-like lots adjoined the school on each side. As Temiker peered around the corner of the schoolhouse, he saw a small figure darting from tree to tree as it made its way towards the rear of the building. He smiled inwardly as he cast a spell towards the swift-moving person. He was rewarded with a cry of surprise.
Temiker turned the corner and hurried towards the captured figure. He chuckled to himself as he saw MistyTrail frozen from the neck down. He was just about to release her from the spell when a pall of confusion fell across his face. The captured person was not MistyTrail.
“Who are you?” he asked as he stepped in front of the diminutive woman.
“Let me go, wizard,” snapped the woman. “Let me go, or you will rue this day forever.”
“You are in a poor position to make demands,” chuckled Temiker. “When someone sneaks into Alamar onboard a Sakovan wagon, I think it is my business to find out who you are and what you are up to. I will have answers before your are freed.”
“I think not,” the woman said adamantly. “Who I am, and where I go is none of your business, magician. Release me at once, or I will scream loudly.”
“You will scream, will you?” laughed the old mage. “You obviously don’t know an awful lot about Omunga. The Imperial Guards would answer your cry in a heartbeat, but they will not be so gentle with their questioning.”
The woman pouted and refused to speak. Temiker’s eyes narrowed as he studied the face of the young woman.
“Are you related to MistyTrail?” he asked. “You look so much like her that I mistook you for her when I first saw you.”
“You know MistyTrail?” gasped the young woman. “How is it that an Omungan knows a Sakovan?”
“I know many people,” smiled Temiker. “MistyTrail is a dear friend of mine.”
“I don’t believe you,” spat the young woman.
“That hardly matters,” frowned Temiker. “If you will not speak to me, I shall have to contact Lyra and find out what is to be done with you.”
“You know the Star of Sakova?” frowned the woman. “Who are you?”
“I am Temiker,” declared the mage. “Lyra is my niece. She will instruct me as to what to do with you.”
“Wait!” called the woman as Temiker turned to leave. “My name is Mistake. I will tell you what you want to know. Just do not tell the Sakovans where I am? You must promise.”
“Promise?” echoed Temiker. “I cannot make such a promise to you. If you have wronged the Sakovans, I am duty-bound to hold you until they come to retrieve you.”
“I have done nothing wrong,” Mistake insisted. “Please let me go. All I did was run away from them. I don’t want to be with them any longer. I did not even take anything that did not belong to me.”
Temiker smiled at the woman’s admission. He realized that she must have been in similar situations in the past.
“If I free you from my spell,” asked Temiker, “Do you promise to tell me what has happened without trying to run away?”
Mistake hesitated and Temiker’s eyes narrowed.
“I can cast spells much quicker than you can run,” he warned. “You will make the promise and keep it, or I shall contact Lyra immediately. Trust me when I say that I can speak to her within minutes.”
“You know how to use an air tunnel?” gasped Mistake.
“I do,” nodded Temiker.
“Alright,” sighed Mistake. “I will stay and tell you why I am leaving the Sakovans, but if you even try to contact them, the deal is off.”
“Fair enough,” smiled Temiker as he waved his hand over Mistake. “Come around to the rear door of the school. I will get you inside without the Sakovans seeing you. You could probably use a good hot meal while I direct the food wagons to the Imperial Guard.”
Mistake nodded eagerly as she rubbed her hands over her body to get rid of the chill of the magical spell. She followed the magician to the rear of the school and slid through the door. Several students looked up as she entered, but they immediately returned to their studies. Temiker led her directly to the kitchen.
“Eat what you want,” offered Temiker. “I will guide the Sakovans to the Imperial Guard and return to talk to you. Remember your promise.”
“I will,” sighed Mistake as she wondered where she could possibly go now that she had fled the Sakova.
Temiker left the kitchen and entered the dining room where the Sakovans were sitting. He waited patiently as the last of them finished eating. When they were done, Temiker walked them to the wagons. He climbed up onto the seat of the first wagon and gave directions to SpringThaw. Within minutes the caravan was parked in front of the headquarters of the Imperial Guard in Alamar. People looked curiously as SpringThaw and Temiker climbed off the wagon and entered the building.
Temiker led SpringThaw across the floor of the large foyer in the headquarters. A long oval counter sat in the middle of the room, and Temiker marched straight towards it.
“We would like to see General Manitow,” Temiker announced to one of the Imperial Guards behind the counter, his voice echoing loudly throughout the room.
The Imperial Guard looked up with an air of annoyance. He looked briefly at Temiker, but his eyes lingered on SpringThaw.
“Who are you, and what do you want with the general?” asked the Imperial Guard.
“Surely you recognize me,” Temiker retorted. “My friend is an emissary from Sakova.”
There were a half dozen Imperial Guards behind the counter, and a dozen more traversing the room from one corridor to the next. They all stopped and stared at SpringThaw as if a murder had just been committed in the foyer.
“A Sakovan?” echoed the Imperial Guard with a hint of condemnation in his voice. “What is she doing here?”
“She is delivering three wagons of food for the people of Alamar,” declared Temiker. “Will you summon the general please?”
The room burst into motion. Two Imperial Guards who had been leaving a corridor immediately turned and ran back through the archway. A half dozen other Imperial Guards crowded around the front door of the building, peering at the caravan parked out front. Barely a minute had passed when a tall gray-haired officer strode through one of the archways and approached Temiker and SpringThaw.