Mattie could hear her breath as she hurried down the path. She could see icy wisps of it pass by in the night, and a long forgotten house was coming up quickly to meet her. In a few short steps she made it through the yard, and up the uneven front porch stairs.
Knock! Then creaking, the door opened almost immediately. And there was Del, wearing a disguise, something she’d found at the beginning of her stay at Greyford while searching through an old clothes chest, a rough peasantish robe belted around the waist. And draped across her arm was an extra robe for Mattie.
���I was beginning to worry,��� she said.
���Sorry. I had to wait till it was safe, for sure safe.���
By this Mattie meant, more specifically, that she had been kept in her room by the precarious non-sleeping habits of her bunkmate, Margaret Thudman, who was a profound tattler. And incidentally, there were many near misses and false snorings exchanged before Mattie was able to make it safely from her room that night.
���Are you sure you’re ready for this?���
Del had asked this for mainly two reasons: For one, because it was clearly told by her face, that Hardy, although resolute in her heart, was scared to death at the thought of what they were about to do. And secondly, because Del hadn’t yet realized how afraid she herself was.
Mattie had stopped in the entryway to consider her answer. ���Well, that’s not really the point, is it?��� she said at last, taking up the extra robe Del had found for her: and a deep, anxious breath.
Chapter Fifteen
Would-be Travelers
���No. I don’t think that’s how it works,��� Mattie insisted.
To the reader: Some portions of this next chapter will contain various scientific concepts (i.e. eggheaded jargon), that you should feel at liberty to skim across, or skip entirely if you do not happen to care for that sort of thing. Still, I would chance a guess that there are some who will undoubtedly find this humdrum scholastic material to be quite intriguing. And so it is for those few, and for this reason, that I have decided to make mention of it here within the text. Granted, for those of us, myself included, who tend to fall somewhere in between the range of ���liking science��� and ���disliking science���, I’ve provided footnotes to explain some of the more difficult concepts.
Thus the two would-be travelers had gotten somewhat behind schedule, and at odds with each other regarding the processes and complexities involved in the act of returning to a previously visited planet, but at a different date and time���.
Del had wrongly suggested that if the settings on the globe had worked on a previous occasion, then they should, (‘obviously,’ she said) work again. However, Mattie (who was right, and who had consequently paid better attention during science course) suggested that since planets, like everything in space, were always moving around, then they had better adjust the dials and coordinates, or run the risk of shooting at something that was no longer there and then who knows where they’d end up.
���See. Here it is,��� Mattie said, pointing to the open page of an enormous leather-bound ledger. (This was, indeed, that same book of charts Meris referenced before their last journey.) The book’s age worn pages resembled that of an almanac���, and it was hand written in thick black ink, with the name of a planet in bold script atop the page. It read:
Gleomu ( catalogue # NX-147-T)
On the adjacent page, Mattie quickly found the day’s date, December 10th, and began reciting a complicated series of numbers and angles to Del, who was adjusting the dials accordingly. This process took several minutes, and needed to be double checked often.
���I think this is it,��� Del said at last, flipping a switch she had seen Meris throw the day before. In a blink, the painting, which until then was merely dimly glowing rays of starlight into the room, burst out in a flash of color. The charts and maps Del had seen previously, realigned across it, and the scenes depicting the cities and valleys of Gleomu shone with renewed glory.
���I’ve never seen anything like it������ Mattie gasped.
However Del was still preoccupied about the globe.
���What are these for?��� she asked, pointing at the controls.
���I don’t know. They probably mean something, right?��� Mattie answered.
The two stood considering a set of three dials that had remained unturned.
���Oh. I’ve got it,��� Del finally exclaimed. ���This one here is for minutes. See it goes up to 60,��� she said excitedly. ���And that means this one’s hours and��� [giving a brief pause] this one’s for days.���
Del had given a pause, not because she was unsure of what the last dial represented, but rather, because she had noticed the upper limit numbered onto the dial, 365���. Meaning that, if one wished it, they might spend a year, at most, stuck inside a far away world. She was glad she hadn’t unknowingly adjusted this.
In the end, both agreed, considering they were likely to only get one try at this, to set it for the maximum that they could, and since all of Mayfield had the weekend off that meant two days; with the hope that, in the meantime, Mattie’s roommate wouldn’t go searching for her.
It was decided. So with all her strength Del began to turn the crank. Light grew in the room. This was no longer just an adventure.
*
��� Why this should matter you will find out shortly, but it has something to do with a planet’s orbital pattern.
��� An Almanac is a detailed calendar of numbers and figures. In this case, it predicted the positioning of distant planets in relation to our own.
��� In actuality, this dial numbered up to 364, yet in the text above I wrote it as 365, in order not to confuse people. But since you have decided to read the explanation you may find this interesting. That the upper limit for full days was 364, as I had previously mentioned, and likewise the limit for hours was 23, and the minutes were numbered up to 60. So that when each dial was turned to its maximum, the total sum of each would equal 365 days.
Chapter Sixteen
How They Came to Gleomu
At the start, you should remember that, until this last week, Del had never before used a globe for traveling. And also that, when she was first in Gleomu, she had noticed the city was built near a wide peaceful lake.
So that as the morning sun drew above the mountain peaks, their golden orb, obscured by the rays, glided down across the water. Going ever slower and getting closer to the calm waves, it stopped, unfortunately, some hundred feet from the shore. Then all at once, their light gave way, and the girls were dropped, with enough time to give a half scream before they hit the chilled water below.
The robes they had chosen to wear for disguises were soaked and weighed them down, and their heavy shoes made it difficult to tread water.
���Nicely done, Calbefur!��� yelled Mattie, just able to keep her chin above the surface.
���It’s not my fault!��� Del answered. Although it technically had been.
So in like manner, soaked and mad about it, the pair kicked and paddled towards the shoreline, then collapsed onto the dirty bank: coughing, irritatingly cold, but they were not alone.
���Came all this way for a bath have you?��� said a voice, from above them, and joking somewhat at their miserable bad luck.
Del turned to see a rough looking man with shoulder length hair standing behind them on the bank. Beyond him there roasted a low camp fire, and the warm smell of bread being baked in a pan. This gruff man found such amusement at their state. So much so, that Del had narrowly made up her mind to dislike him, that was before he spoke up again.
���Welcome, little ones. You can come warm up by the fire if you’d like,��� he said.
No one had ever called her a ���little one��� before, and Del didn’t much prefer it. Yet the thought of
being dried by the fire was enough to send both girls scrambling to their feet, and as close to the flames and smoke as they could bear. Del set out her stiff hands above the heat, while Mattie wrung out the wet corners of her robe.
After a while, when they were mostly dry, their host offered them a seat, a coarse blanket they had to share between them, and a light breakfast of wheat cakes made from the pan, washed down with a hot drink that tasted like ginger.
Through this whole time, however, not much was spoken, except for polite hospitalities, and a few over-adorned thank-yous that the girls had been dolefully forced to repeat while at Mayfield, yet here they were honestly meant. But so it was, that once both had been warmed and fed, at last their host spoke up. His voice was sturdy and, Del thought, a bit grandfatherly, but not the sort you’d like to hear if you’d been in trouble.
���I know who you are,��� he spoke.
The two girls froze in their seats, giving each other a quick look, terrified at what he might say next.
���Or more like it,��� he continued. ���I can tell, within two guesses, which one of you was imprisoned in the king’s palace about this time yesterday morn.���
���How can you tell that?��� and, ���We don’t know what you’re talking about,��� were their responses.
(Unfortunately, both girls spoke over each other, interrupting one another. Del attempted to be sly about the whole thing, but Mattie, however, succeeded in ruining their chances for that.)
The old man seemed amused by this, as he sat tending the fire. Then after a space of time, he turned to answer Mattie’s question, which she’d nearly forgot she’d asked.
���Child,��� he remarked, ���It’s not a subtle thing to break apart the king’s dungeon. I’d dare say there’s not a babe east of Theydor [a prominent river in the area] who hasn’t heard of it by now.��� He laid a can of water on top of the coals to bring his tea to a boil. ���And as for how I can tell you’re the girl from those stories,��� he said, turning his glance towards Del, who looked away as soon as he did so. ���You two have chosen an oddly cold spring morning to go out swimming. [the corners of his mouth started to grin] Yet somehow, you’d ended up in the middle of the lake, and that in full dress, without first kicking off your boots.���
Del looked down at their wet laced shoes.
������and I find that a little strange, don’t you?��� he added, stirring his drink to the soft sound of boiling water.
They’d been found out, undeniably so. Del’s face made a grimace. For although she’d quite often had a knack for getting herself out of trouble, she knew that this time there was no getting around it.
(However, in all of this, there was a spot of good news that no one seemed to have realized, none except perhaps the old man. That since he hadn’t noticed them glide down across the lake that morning, being so close to where they’d landed, it could be reasonably assumed, then, that no one else would have: except that this was not entirely true, either. As it happened, there had been yet one other person who’d seen their glittering, golden orb, floating down through the clouds that morning, and that person being a little girl who’d lived just outside the city gates with her mother. Who would, at the first light of dawn every morning, go down to the lake to fetch some water. Howbeit this morning, she’d been so overwhelmed by what she’d seen that she left her buckets. And went running back along the path to tell her mother, who, in turn, chided her for not keeping up with her chores.)
���Do you mean to turn us in?��� Del asked, after a long silence.
���What do you think?��� he said, sipping his tea. ���Would I have fed you breakfast, if I’d meant to turn you in?���
She thought about that for a second.
���No��� I don’t think so,��� she said at last, desperately hoping she was right about it.
���No,��� he reassured her. ���Not to mention that also, at the moment, I myself would be, as well, all too welcomed by the palace guards.���
This last statement was somewhat confusing, but Mattie thought she knew what was meant by it. ���So you’re a fugitive, then?��� she asked, a little excited to have said the words.
He took out the pan from the fire, and began to mix in grain for his late breakfast. ���Some��� the criminals more likely, would say that, but by those who’d know better I should assume they’d think of me as a hero.���
Del would have never guessed him to be a fugitive. So she broke in, asking a very obvious question. ���I don’t understand,��� she said. ���If you’re trying to run away, then why are you camped out here, so close to the city?���
For indeed, they were not so close to the city as to be seen easily by the guards along the tower, but certainly, as Del knew enough about military things to know, that even a half-decent search party could find a lone man not more than five miles from their own gate.
���Who said I was running away?��� he replied. ���I’m a fugitive, yes, but I’ve no intention of running away. Faron…��� he pressed on, in full voice, perhaps still a bit irritated at the thought that he might be running away, ���is an evil king, I’ll give you that, but he’s lazy, and the thugs he’s hired are just like him. Every morning, after the sun’s risen nearly a hand’s breadth above the hills, they leave the gates and head out riding west [pointing out across the plains], so as to not have to ride with a glare in their eyes. And after a long while their route comes about, and they’ll end up crossing this side of the lake at around dusk. You see, even an old man like myself can outwit a bunch of blithering oafs, if not but for fifteen minutes a day.���
At the end of this, the old man went back again to his unattended breakfast, and Del was not in the mood to ask any further questions. Though Mattie, on the other hand, was still quite curious. And she proceeded to ask him, in a similar way, what he’d done to warrant such enmity from the king.
To this, the old man answered her plainly that good men have for always been the natural enemies of tyrants.
Yet this, still, would not suffice Mattie’s curiosity, and so he began to retell a very elaborate and interesting story, between sips of tea and morsels of bread. Beginning first with his rise to prominence within the ranks of the royal army, and then the sudden and suspicious death of the true king, along with Faron’s disbandment of the King’s forces, and lastly (and what both girls thought to be most interesting) his cunning escape from the city, and from Faron’s ever widening grasp, by a bit of distraction and a well-timed horse cart.
As you might imagine, reader, this was a very involved story and took the old man a good deal of time to explain fully. Therefore, I will not belabor you with the details of it, for they are many. Except that to say what some may have already guessed at, that their present storyteller was, in fact, the last surviving general of the late King Reuel: a General Gamel, as his soldiers would address him, but the girls seemed to favor calling him ���Gam���.
Chapter Seventeen
To the City
In case you were wondering from the previous chapter, whether or not Del had ever mentioned to Gamel about her conversation with Corwan, or about Meris and her escape from the king’s prison, or about their hopes to somehow rescue the prince before his trial, the truth is she had. But Gamel, who was not all that fond of relying on the girls’ ���magic���, as he called it, said they’d be better served to wait until Corwan was released from prison, on the day of his trial. And that if they’d attempt to storm the castle before then, that even if by chance they were successful, Faron, who’d been looking for any opportunity he could to slay the boy, would undoubtedly order his execution during the commotion, and then all their effort would have been for naught.
They did however come to a conclusion, during a lunch of pan fried trout and wild yam, that they mig
ht be able to properly manage a rescue for Meris from the palace gardens: Which was not too heavily guarded, at the present time, and may easily be gotten into by cover of darkness, but saying that they would first need to get into the city.
The daylight was falling down below the plains to the west. Gamel ordered the girls to the task of concealing any signs of their fire. Most of the coals were gathered and thrown into the lake, while he took great care to be sure every footprint was swept way. Towards dusk, he led them through a thicket, to a hidden hollowed tree. He told them they could sleep there till he’d come again later that evening.
���This is the most uncomfortable place in the world������ Mattie remarked, although she was soon fast asleep, and slept more soundly than Del did that night.
It was completely dark. There was a rattling in the bushes. Del awoke quickly, and for a moment forgot where she was. Shaking and stirring, the noise grew louder, till at once the bushes were pulled back. A little light came in.
���It’s time,��� a voice said. [This was Gamel’s voice]
���What time is it?��� Mattie asked in a yawn, for she had just woken up.
The moon was not full like it had been in our world. Most often Del would only know to duck, because she kept her hands out to feel for her way. Too often, along the path, she’d kick a misplaced root or some hidden stone, and Del would have thought it impossible to continue on in these conditions, except that Gam seemed unaffected by the darkness. ���Perhaps he has gone this way before,��� she thought.
It was not long till their uncomfortable winding trail finally broke from the heavy wood. It led them onward, through tall grasses. Up ahead the city (which you should know is named Ismere) was mostly dark, that they could see, save for a few torches along the watchtowers.
The Histories of Earth, Books 1-4: In the Window Room, A Prince of Earth, All the Worlds of Men, and Worlds Unending Page 5