“All we have to do now is find out who’s going to be the Hesper,” Kit said. “Get to it, and find out what we have to do to help it.”
“Probably get it past being physical, and out the other side,” Dairine said. “The soul inside the Yaldiv body might belong to a new Power, but all its strength’s going to be trapped inside, useless, until it gets clear about who and what it is. It’s got to make the connection to the part of it that lives where the other real Powers do, outside of time. And there’s no telling what that’s going to look like.”
“Probably like a bomb going off,” Kit muttered, and threw Ronan a slightly amused look. The area on the mobiles’ world where the Champion had exited its former, merely physical form had looked like a war zone afterward. “This neighborhood may not be the safest place to be.”
“Who cares?” Dairine said. “It’s what we’ve got to do!”
Ronan nodded. “But the odd thing,” he said, “is that this seems such an unlikely place for this to happen. I mean, a major power for good turns up incarnated in somebody from this species? They’re all supposed to be aresh-hav, all ‘lost.’”
“Then this is the very best place for that Power to do it,” Kit said.
Dairine’s eyebrows went up. All the others, except for Filif, busy with the sixth mochteroof, looked at Kit.
He looked a little abashed by all the sudden attention. “Well, think about it,” he said. “If the Lone Power thinks that it owns this planet and everyone on it, thinks It has a foothold in every living soul—”
Roshaun’s eyes were suddenly alight; Dairine suspected his thoughts had been trending in the same direction. “Then It will be far less suspicious of what happens here,” Roshaun said. “It will perhaps hardly be suspicious at all. And more—” He reached into one of the pockets of those baggy trousers of his and came up with a lollipop. Dairine rolled her eyes. “What if the Isolate has had some whisper of news that this event was about to happen somewhere in our space-time?”
Crunch! went the lollipop. Dairine winced. “And not Itself being sure of the location, the Isolate would desire above everything that no one else, most especially wizards, should find out where the Hesper’s embodiment was to happen. If they did, they might be able to help it.” His expression went grimly amused.
“So It creates this big distraction,” Kit said.
“This diversionary tactic,” Roshaun said. He waved the shattered lollipop on its stick in a little circle that indicated their whole home universe being pushed apart by the dark matter of the Pullulus. “So that no wizard has time to waste following up any rumors that they might hear.”
“And the Lone Power’s looking all over the place for the Hesper,” Kit said. He was starting to grin. “But It doesn’t know that Its plan’s already backfired. The Hesper’s about to manifest right under Its nose.”
“In one of the places It thinks It doesn’t have to worry about,” Dairine said. And she grinned. “You think the Powers That Be read Sherlock Holmes?”
To hide something in such plain sight, the Champion said, and Dairine was oddly excited by the amusement in its voice as Ronan looked over at her. The One is such a gambler.
Something about the Champion’s tone made Kit begin to wonder. Had the other Powers That Be been kept away from here on purpose, to make sure that the secret was kept? Don’t make a fuss, he could just hear the profound silences of the heavens whispering among themselves; don’t act as if anything’s going on there. Wait for the ones to get there who won’t attract undue attention, who can do the job without raising the alarm. Or at least not until it’s too late—
“Just one more to do now,” Filif said from the work area in the middle of the cave. “The mochteroof for Ponch. Then we’re ready.”
Dairine turned to Ponch, who was lying on the floor with his feet in the air. “While we were back on the mobiles’ world,” she said, “I saw things here, just for a moment, as if I were inside the Hesper itself. I guess those ‘personal’ coordinates will have changed now—if it’s a member of this species, it has to move around—but its other characteristics will be the same. Spot should be able to pass that set of coordinates to you. If you can read it your way, as smell instead of sight—”
I can do that, Ponch said.
Filif stepped back from his work, looking over the shining row of mock Yaldiv. “That’s it,” he said. “There are spares for Nita and Sker’ret when they get back; I’ve left them a note in each one on how to use them if they want to follow us. And the advice that possibly they should wait until we get back.”
“Fil,” Dairine said, “you’re a smart guy. Let’s suit up.”
Everyone got up and went to the mochteroofs that Filif had labeled for them. Dairine watched for a moment as Kit fastened Ponch into his. It was a goofy moment: the dog vanished, a large gleaming green-blue Yaldiv suddenly became real, and then started spinning around and around in the middle of the floor, trying to catch a tail that wasn’t there.
Half in and half out of his own mochteroof, Kit sighed. “Let him get it out of his system,” he said.
They all helped one another get into the shape-change routines. Dairine slipped into hers, held up her hands, and wriggled the fingers; the huge claws clashed. Behind her, Roshaun came over to examine the wizardry. “Elegantly built,” he said. “Filif is an artist.”
“Yeah,” Dairine said. For the moment she wasn’t so much paying attention to the artistry of the spell as she was to Kit, off on one side, and Ronan, off on the other, as each got into his own mochteroof. They were both looking at Dairine and Roshaun, and both of them were trying not to look like that was what they were doing.
I see it, Roshaun said.
Dairine made an annoyed face as she put Spot down. Filif had built a virtual shelf inside the mochteroof for him, so that Dairine could keep him close to eye level and still have her hands free. The problem is, she said silently, there isn’t a word for what we’ve got. Whatever that is.
“Friendship” might possibly suffice as a description, Roshaun said.
But it seemed insufficient. You know what I mean, Dairine said. And no one ever believes that’s all it is. Everybody starts trying right away to put their own labels on it. And then they run into the age thing.
Roshaun turned away to check his own mochteroof‘s status. And then start thinking the worst.
Whether there’s even the slightest evidence…
They both fell into an annoyed silence.
Filif—no longer a tree but a Yaldiv—glanced over at Ronan. “Are we clear outside?”
“No one’s within half a mile,” he said.
“Then let’s go,” Kit said.
They all filed onto the transit diagram that Sker’ret had left for them…
…and stepped out into the green light of day.
At least that was the way the mochteroofs rendered the infrared component of what Yaldiv daylight filtered down between the wrestling, striving trees. Dairine saw that the space between those trees defined a slightly meandering loop of pathway, broader than the one they’d first approached; this, in turn, flowed into the bigger path that would lead to their destination. Ronan glanced from one side to the other, the Champion in him making sure that no Yaldiv was in any position to see that they had appeared from nothing. Then he stepped aside to let Ponch and Kit lead the way.