“Nothing,” she said automatically, but Petten wasn’t having any of that.
“Yes, there is; now what is it?”
Janna was usually the blunt one, but she was having difficulty saying what she really felt now. Just do it. “You laughed at me. I don’t like being laughed at.”
“Neither do I,” he said, his forehead wrinkled.
Janna shook her head pityingly. Petten was too young to have the memory problems of an average adult. Maybe the trend started earlier than she’d realized.
“When—” he began to ask.
“When we were getting away from the Fern Queen and you were being pessimistic and gloomy.”
“Oh yeah,” Petten said and had the nerve to smile at the memory.
She scowled, and he quickly tried to explain.
“I was tense. When I laughed, it helped me handle the stress.”
“Everyone was tense,” she said severely.
“That’s true, but I was your scout. I felt responsible, and we were moving too slowly to have a chance of getting away. I was amazed they hadn’t caught us already.”
“Humph.”
“Besides, you’re cute when you scowl!”
Janna’s mood underwent a sudden and remarkable transformation.
“Your bottom lip pokes out like a two-year-old’s and your eyes—” Petten stopped when he saw her outraged face.
“Cute,” he backtracked quickly. “Real cute.”
Their horses were parting now. Janna said, “Humph,” once more, but since she couldn’t hide a grin while she said it, the exchange ended well. It was good to be friends with Petten again. She didn’t have so many friends that she could afford to lose one.
By then, cool cloud moisture had soaked through everyone’s clothes. The horses with their thick coats didn’t mind the extra moisture and neither did Caramel Brute, who merely shook it off, but the humans were glad when they broke out of the clouds into warm sunshine. Their clothes began to dry and they gazed about with interest, not that they could see much. They had entered a wood now. The trees were scrawny at this altitude, but they still blocked most of the view.
None of them, except perhaps Petten, could have found the way back to the valley they had come from, and all of them, including Petten, were glad to let the horses pick the best route through the trees. Whenever they could, the horses moved into a steady jog.
Midday, the group came out of the trees into what Luff and Petten identified as one of the uninhabited lands to the southeast of Mount Pasture. Craggy peaks and narrow valleys had never encouraged settlers. They didn’t encourage Janna either, and the others seemed to feel the same way. Nobody talked during the last part of the day.
It was long past Janna’s internal supper clock before they stopped for the night near a stream. She slipped off her horse and staggered a few steps. The old stories had not been kidding when they talked about a beginning rider’s sore muscles. In fact, they should have used more descriptive words such as “excruciating pain” and “inflamed nerve endings.” Cook was staggering too, she noted. Alissa and Luff were stiff though they didn’t seem to be in pain, and Petten was as limber as ever, but what would you expect from a scout!
Janna did not complain. Cook didn’t complain either; however, not talking was normal for her, so it didn’t count. Janna did not complain for several more minutes. Wasn’t anyone going to notice?
Madow broke the general silence with his usual emotionless words.
“We will rest with you through the night. Tomorrow, Hayla will carry the older human girl north to meet people from her kingdom who are searching for her.”
“How do you know they’re there?” asked Janna, bristling at the thought of Alissa leaving that soon.
“The Maker told us last night,” said Madow.
“Then why didn’t you say something before now?”
“Janna,” scolded her father, but Madow only answered calmly.
“You did not need to know before now.”
Before Janna could respond to that, Petten entered the conversation. “If it’s okay, I want to go with Alissa. I can keep her company and it will be a more direct route to my kingdom.”
Madow nodded his head. “One of us will take you.”
Janna could have burst with conflicting feelings. She didn’t want Alissa and Petten to leave. She had been counting on them coming to Mount Pasture for a short visit, maybe only a day, but long enough to show people that she had friends. Forget about the noncomplaining stance, which nobody had noticed anyway. Right now, she wanted to complain big time.
On the other hand, Alissa was smiling warmly at Petten, who was smiling back. Finally! Janna wanted to smirk her pleasure at the historical romance budding in front of her. The urge to complain battled with the urge to smirk, but the contest was over almost before it began.
Janna smirked widely, and any lingering vestige of annoyance with Petten vanished. No one but the scout paid any attention to her grinning face, and he winked at her, which made her spirits rise further. It’s a done deal!
“Let’s get some supper,” Luff said, interrupting an imaginary conversation his daughter was having with Alissa, which basically went along the lines of I was right and you were wrong, though Janna was quite humble in her victory, while the golden princess was full of admiration over her keen foresight.
Cook had brought what was left of their roots and berries. Petten caught the usual fish. Everyone knew what to do, making supper a comfortingly familiar routine.
That was good, since as soon as she started her job of gathering wood for the fire, Janna’s high spirits wavered. Keep busy, stay positive. Most of the fallen branches and twigs were on the ground near the stream. As she walked toward them, she saw how fast the current was going. It was going very fast. In fact, it was hurtling past, and she couldn’t help but realize that the time she had left with her friends was hurtling past too.
She tried to distract herself by focusing on a motionless pool on the far side of the stream. However, the more she focused on the pool, the more her spirits followed the example of every rock she had ever tried to skip across a smooth surface of water.
Plop. Always, one wet-sounding plop, and down the rock sank. It was hopeless. She couldn’t stay positive.
Alissa and Petten were leaving in the morning. Romance might be going to happen, but she wouldn’t be there to see it. She would be back in Mount Pasture, where nobody liked her and Benk made up humiliating songs about her.
Supper was a quiet affair. Everyone was tired after the long day. As soon as she finished eating, Janna trudged over to the stream to wash her hands.
During their stay in the valley, they’d used large leaves for plates, but forks and spoons had been too much trouble. With shrugs from a few shoulders, they’d accepted the ease of fingers. Alissa hadn’t shrugged; she had been far too well bred to shrug, but Janna had known without asking that the golden princess had never in her life eaten with her fingers.
“I’m shrugging on your behalf,” she’d said, and Alissa had thanked her with a merry laugh.
Janna washed her hands dejectedly, barely noticing how cold the water was. Good memories, she thought, trying to bolster herself. Be grateful. It didn’t work. The only thing she could feel was sadness. Then footsteps sounded, and her father knelt beside her to wash his own fishy hands.
“I predict it’s going to rain tomorrow, but, as far as I can tell, we’re less than a day’s journey from Mount Pasture. We’ll be home before you know it!”
“Wonderful,” Janna said in a voice that indicated anything but happiness.
Luff was startled. “Don’t you want to go home?”
Janna winced with guilt. Her father had gone to a lot of trouble and risked his life in an attempt to rescue her from the Fern Queen. She hadn’t even thanked him.
“Dad, you’ve been great. It’s just—I don’t have any— nobody likes me in Mount Pasture.”
Luff’s mouth dropped open and his face registe
red deep shock. “That’s not true. Everyone likes you.”
“Not the kids. And nobody believed me when I told them the old stories were real. Well, that’s one good thing. I was right and they were wrong. Ha! They’re all wooly brained—”
“Janna,” Luff interrupted. He wasn’t thundering anymore, but she knew that tone of voice. It meant business. “If you want people to like you, you have to be likable. When you always put other people down—”
“They’re the ones who put me down,” she said, her voice choking. “I’ve tried to tell you, but you always blame me and never consider the fact that anyone else could have done something wrong.”
Luff stared out over the stream. “I think you’re right.”
“You do?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry. Let’s make a pact. I’ll quit blaming you for everything, and you start being nicer to people.”
Janna nodded doubtfully. “I’ll try.”
Then she wiped her eyes and followed her father back to the others. It was much colder at night away from the valley of the high-home horses. They lay as close to the fire as possible. Janna and Alissa slept huddled together, but even so, everyone was cold and bleary-eyed the next morning.
“The sun will warm us in an hour,” Petten said, and Janna believed him, but that didn’t keep her teeth from chattering right then.
“We will return to our home now,” Madow calmly announced.
Janna whipped about toward the stallion, tripping over her own feet in the process and almost falling down. Somehow, she hadn’t considered that angle. She’d have to say goodbye to Madow and the other horses this morning too, as well as Alissa and Petten.
Someone said, “Thank you,” then everyone was saying it, but nobody came up with anything else to say.
We’re always tongue-tied around these horses, Janna thought, frantically trying to come up with something to say, anything.
The horses seemed quite comfortable with silence. They gazed at the group as if in benediction, then turned to leave. Caramel Brute whined.
“Goodbye, we’ll always treasure the memory of you,” Janna called out frantically.
Madow paused and turned. “Memories will bear fruit in the high home and goodbyes turn into greetings.”
He and the other cream-colored horses trotted off, leaving behind the two brown mares.
Chapter 19
Goodbyes and Hellos
Everyone watched as the three horses left. Caramel Brute ran after them a few yards, then looked over his shoulder questioningly. When nobody made a move, he sat where he was and stared at the departing horses until they disappeared over a ridge. His ears were cocked toward the humans though. As soon as they stirred, he rushed back to them. They laughed a little at his wild greeting, as if he’d been separated from them for days.
Janna was too sad to laugh, especially when the two remaining mares walked over to Alissa and Petten, but she didn’t react further, because Caramel Brute suddenly growled, and the hair along his back rose.
“Hello, down there,” came a distant call, and Caramel Brute growled again.
Everyone started in surprise—everyone but the two mares, Janna noted. The mares raised their heads as if they’d been expecting the three figures waving shepherd’s staffs on the crest of the nearest hill. Janna’s eyes narrowed. She’d wondered why Madow was letting the Mount Pasture group walk the rest of the way. He must have known these shepherds were coming and hadn’t wanted to meet them. Smart. Neither do—
“Hello yourself,” her father was shouting back. “It’s Roni, Bandy, and Muck,” he said with such joy that Janna made herself put a smile on her face.
Cook had grabbed Caramel Brute and was holding onto him, soothing him with murmured words of reassurance. The big dog wasn’t happy to have yet more humans arrive, but his growl became more of a grumble.
Petten nodded. “This is good. They can show you the best way to return home.”
By now, the men had run down the hill and were rapidly approaching. Luff hurried to meet them and there was a lot of backslapping and congratulating.
“Go on, Janna. You don’t have to wait with us,” Petten said.
“Yes, go and greet them,” seconded Alissa warmly.
Janna hesitated.
“We won’t leave without saying goodbye,” Petten promised.
What else could she do? She walked toward the jovial group, and when one of the shepherds saw her, he shouted a welcome and pulled her into a hug. Then she was passed around from shepherd to shepherd and hugged and generally triumphed over—as if I was a lost lamb, she thought, halfway expecting one of them to sling her over his shoulder and start for home.
“Where’d you go to, girl?” asked Bandy finally.
“I got captured by the Fern Queen,” Janna answered truthfully enough, although she omitted the part about falling into a tunnel. There was no need to embarrass herself.
“I didn’t know there was a real person called the Fern Queen until Luff told us you’d fallen into her old tunnel,” Roni said loudly, and Janna gave up the idea of keeping embarrassing things secret.
“She was real all right, and as evil as the old stories said she was.”
The shepherds shifted uneasily. Undaunted, Janna continued. “She was going to turn Dad and me into fernpeople with horrible green veins and eyes, but the fernwoman who cooked for her helped us escape. Do you want to meet her?”
“A fernwoman,” Muck said offhandedly, rubbing the beard on his chin.
“Yes, come on.” Janna led the way back to the waiting group.
“This is Cook,” she introduced her friend proudly.
Cook nodded and the three shepherds nodded back, but nobody said anything further until Luff rather pointedly continued the introductions, this time including Petten, Alissa, and each of the shepherds.
“Oh yes, sorry,” Janna said, accepting the correction politely, though she avoided looking at Petten when Muck was introduced.
Petten’s work spreading the dried stable muck in the Fern Queen’s gardens had given rise to a constant stream of complaints and jokes about the smelly stuff. Petten would keep his face under strict control. Janna knew that he would, but she also knew that if he made the smallest, most distantly courteous good-to-meet-you smile, she would dissolve into helpless laughter, and that wouldn’t be nice. She had promised her father to be nice. Besides, Luff had left out the horses.
“And these are two high-home horses,” she added grandly, tilting her head toward her father to indicate that he had forgotten to introduce them. “One of them is called Hayla, but I don’t know the other one’s name. Can you talk?” she asked the brown mares, though she was pretty sure they couldn’t.
The mares gazed at her, swishing their tails. It was typically relaxed behavior from these high-home animals, but Janna was uncomfortably aware that they were acting remarkably like ordinary horses.
“Only the cream-colored ones talk,” she explained to the shepherds, none of whom were looking at her. One was staring intently over the hills, while the other two had developed a fascination with their boots.
Janna stiffened. She opened her mouth in outrage, but Petten spoke before she could, and her attention was sidetracked.
“I think Alissa and I should leave now. We don’t want to miss meeting her people.”
Hugging each other only took a few minutes, but Janna didn’t try to prolong it. She was too sad to make the effort. When Petten and Alissa gracefully sprang onto their mounts’ backs, the shepherds murmured in appreciation. Of course, they did. They always appreciated everyone but her.
The mares moved off in a northerly direction.
“Come visit soon,” Janna called, waving goodbye.
Her friends called back promises of future meetings until they reached the top of a hill and started down the other side. As they passed out of sight, Alissa and Petten both waved. Then they were gone, and Janna heaved a shuddering sigh.
While she’d been waving
goodbye, the men had started an animated discussion about such interesting topics as Bandy’s new treatment for foot fungus and the current drought that had lasted two weeks. Luff was maintaining that it would rain that day, and the shepherds seemed hopeful. Their king’s predictions had often come true, not always, but often enough to make them start scanning the sky.
Cook wandered over to the creek for a drink of water, and Janna followed. She sat on the bank while the older woman cupped her hands and brought gulps of water to her mouth.
When she’d satisfied her thirst, Cook sat down next to her.
“It’s to be expected,” she said.
“What’s to be expected?” Janna asked listlessly. “That I’m depressed over Alissa and Petten leaving?”
“That too,” Cook agreed. “But I meant about the shepherds.”
“You need to use more words, Cook. Shepherds’ brains are stuffed with wool, but if that’s what you’re trying to say, I already know it.”
Cook smiled. “It’s good to joke.”
Janna didn’t have the energy to assure her that she hadn’t been joking.
“No, I meant the shepherds not believing about the talking horses and the Fern Queen.”
Janna lost some of her listlessness. “I told them only the cream-colored horses could talk, but you’re right, they didn’t act as if they believed me. I wish Petten and Alissa could have talked to them before they left, but when Dad backs me—he will, won’t he?”
“He’ll be patient.”
That wasn’t very reassuring, but then Janna thought of something that was.
“Anyway, they can see you. You were a fernperson, and you’re right in front of their eyes.”
Cook shook her head. “I don’t look it now.”
Janna stared in dismay. It was true. Cook had brown eyes now and a broad face that was wrinkled but certainly not green in any way.
“I’m doomed,” the girl moaned.
****
Around noon, the rain King Luff had predicted started in a slow drizzle that lasted for hours.
At least it was a warm day instead of the cooler one the mountain world was quite capable of producing in early autumn. They’d get wet but they wouldn’t get chilled. Luff pointed this out cheerfully, and the three shepherds agreed, but shepherds were used to being outside in every kind of weather, and Janna knew for a fact that, as the king of Mount Pasture, her father was out in it too, more often than not.
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