As the riders slid stiffly from saddles and watered and tended their mounts, Jedit Ojanen squatted over tufts of green and brown that sprinkled the stony soil.
To the tiger's obvious confusion, Heath explained, "Pine needles. Like cactus thorns, only soft."
Frowning, Jedit Ojanen touched a black claw to an invisible spot on the soil. "Johan's last footstep. The trail ends here."
In silence, the party stared upward, thinking but not asking the same question.
"Then we'll stop here too." Hazezon Tamar made his voice flippant, for the atmosphere was chilled and gloomy in the wall's shadow. He opened a saddlebag and unwrapped a squat, square jug. With jug in hands, he asked, "Who goes, and who stays?"
"Goes where?" As always, Adira was suspicious of Hazezon's magic, which had a tendency to run riot once unleashed. "Atop the wall?"
"Where else? It's why we came!" Refusing to be sucked into another endless argument, Hazezon explained patiently. "We shan't all go, uh, aloft. I'm staying here in Sukurvia."
"You'll what?" barked Adira. "You whiskery walrus! Why did you waste three weeks trekking a wasteland just to sheer about and haul for home?"
"I came," Hazezon spat through gritted teeth, "to boost you, you ungrateful minx, up to the top of the. cliffs!"
Adira raked back her auburn curls, always a danger sign. "Oh, so? Us and eight horses, near five tons of deadweight, flung into the air like a flock of flamingos? How did you know there even were cliffs, O Master of the All-Seeing Eye? You're so bat-blind you've pitched down a privy hole just lifting your skirts!"
"I wear robes as befit a civilized gentlemen!" retorted Hazezon. "Unlike some hell-bound hussies who dress in men's garb because they can't decide which side of the bed to sleep in!"
"I slept in your bed too many nights," shrilled Adira, "and suffered one damned disappointment after another."
Some pirates chuckled as the squabble rattled on. Others grimaced in embarrassment. Simone the Siren clutched hands over her heart and simpered as if love-struck. Jedit Ojanen studied the wall as if measuring the best route to climb.
"… leave it to Hamhanded Trembler to concoct some addle-pated scheme built on untried magic!" Adira Strongheart didn't mention that she practiced small magics herself. She jabbed a callused finger at the bottle in her ex-husband's hand. "What stinkpot trick this time? Will you stuff me and my crew in that jug like imps and hurl us up high?"
"No, I'll shift you!"
"Like hell!"
A stunned silence fell as the words sank in. Hazezon was aware that both Adira's mercenaries and his own servants and palace guards stared.
Rubbing her nose in agitation, Adira demanded, "Shift? As in, step across the spheres?"
"Nothing so grand," mumbled the elder mage, "but I've practiced and experimented many a long night. Shifting is the first step toward planeswalking, it's true, but likely I won't live long enough to achieve that. Still, I can shift. Some things."
"What things?" snapped Adira. "How far?"
"Statues, if you must know!" snarled Hazezon. "And within eyeshot!"
Heads tilted heavenward. Simone said, "Eyeshot?"
Sergeant Murdoch echoed, "Experimented?"
And Heath, "Statues? Not the ones at your villa in Bryce?"
"If we don't land atop the wall," asked Wilemina, "where will we end up?"
Hazezon Tamar held up both hands as if to say, Trust me.
Jedit Ojanen asked, "How did Johan surmount the wall?"
Glad for an interruption, Hazezon lectured. "Oh, likely he just levitated his entourage. That would be no hard feat-"
"Why don't we?" asked Virgil.
"-no hard feat for some," Hazezon plowed on. "Or they may've flown. Remember the Tirrans possessed cloth-wing gliders and animated bird carcasses. Or Johan may have shifted them. I can't know his grimoire, but any of a dozen spells might suffice, and what one magician can conjure, another can replicate. Sometimes."
"Drag your anchor, Haz," sighed Adira Strongheart. "We're beached, so any harbor looks homey. What needs doing?"
Smug at a small victory, Hazezon beamed. "Link hands. Quickly, before we lose the light. And stop grumbling. Hold tight. Don't drop hands, or you'll break the ring-Eh?"
"Milord Tamar."
For the first time, the captain of Hazezon's bodyguard spoke up. Lieutenant Peregrine was tall with fair hair cropped square to her turban-wrapped pointed helmet. She wore the ocean-blue tunic with gold wave that represented Bryce's wealth, come from the sea, and over it a blue cloak. A pirate's scimitar was jammed in a sash, and like all the guards, she carried a lance with a fluttering blue pennant, but now she put that aside. Speaking out of turn on a personal matter, her cheeks flushed rose under a southern tan.
"If you'll permit, sir, I wish to accompany Her Ladyship's party, if Her Ladyship will allow it."
– "What?" Mentally rehearsing a spell, Hazezon was taken aback. "Peregrine, why this sudden decision to quit my service?"
"Milord." The woman stood soldier-straight while squirming inside. "My ancestors are said to come from Buzzard's Bay. I request a leave of absence to visit the region. I promised it to my-my mother. And I suspect Her Ladyship Strongheart would welcome an extra right arm."
"Not if you hail me as 'Her Ladyship' the livelong day," said Adira. "You bespeak me like some whaleboned brine hag. Aye, you're welcome to ship aboard. I'd give my right arm for one soul who can follow orders! And we mustn't disappoint your mother."
Teasing made the proud lieutenant blush deeper.
"Yes, go, Peregrine." Worried about his spell, Hazezon didn't care. "No need to dock your pay. Consider it detached duty. Guard Adira as you would me. The stars and moons know she attracts trouble like a lightning rod. Now, all join hands and hush, children! Remember, don't let go your grasp!"
Formally passing command to her second, Lieutenant Peregrine joined the circle with Adira Strongheart, Sergeant Murdoch, Sister Wilemina, Whistledove Kithkin, Jasmine Boreal, Simone the Siren, Heath, Virgil, and Jedit Ojanen. They joined hands, facing outward in a ring that corralled nine nervous horses. Jedit's big furry paws enfolded Wilemina's and Simone's hands halfway to the elbow.
Hazezon Tamar pried the wax stopper from his jug and dipped his finger in a bluish gel like berry juice with an eye-watering reek like vinegar. Touching a gooey blue finger to Adira's left hand, he traced up Adira's arm to her neck, crossed her throat gently, and striped down to her right hand. Adira protested "slime," but Hazezon carried on, dipping and smearing the liniment across Lieutenant Peregrine's chest, careful to keep the azure thread intact. Around the circle he plodded, smearing goo across leather and cloth and skin and tiger hide, all the while incanting under his breath, until he returned to his ex-wife. The desert mage's brow dripped sweat, which made the travelers cringe, but they kept silent.
Looking at the bulky horses and towering cliff wall, Hazezon gritted his teeth as he wound up the incantation.
"… on the wings of Wullab Fountain-Spitter, on the hooves of Gybo the Galloper, with the speed of the Firestorm Phoenix, upon the breath of Phanal-Unorg, I bid you, all joined as one, be gone!"
A great wind swept from nowhere to sizzle about the adventurers. Hair and skirts and mustaches billowed. Capes flipped over quivers and shoulders. Dust spattered faces, making people squeeze their eyes shut and snort. Horses whinnied with fright and skipped to break out of the human corral.