Chapter 64

Obstacles along the way -

Are they stumbling blocks?

Are they stepping stones?

Step up! If you do not fall,

Climb up!

Aphorisms for a Quiet Life by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland

At Pixie Hollow, Gan turned the key to her locked cabinet, where she kept the more potent potions, elixirs, powders and essences and dried herbs she used in magic, medicine and housekeeping.

“It smells weird,” Moxie said from her perch on Gan’s shoulder, wrinkling her nose. “Kind of like Arne’s britches when he goes running through the mud pots near Red Rock.”

“There’s a reason they call them the Stinking Springs,” Dahlia said, nodding. She flew up to one of the rafters to get away from the smell. “At least it doesn’t smell like Ixip.”

“There’s no Ixip in my house,” Gan said nodding, “I suspect you’re smelling the valerian root.”

“Why do you keep it locked up?” Rosebud asked, landing on Gan’s cap.

“To keep little nappers like you from thinking my medicine cabinet is a good place to take a rest,” Gan replied. She began moving a few things out, putting them on the counter. “There’s a lot here not safe for Pixies or those who don’t know what they’re doing to handle. Useful though, when you really need them.” She shoved several bottles and vials around. “Now where did I put that?”

“That’s quite a collection of supplies you have there,” Leila said, looking over Gan’s shoulder. Her eyes grew a little wide at the assortment. “Solution of Breeland. Oil of Marginot. Thieves Vinegar. And so many herbal powders. You could heal an army.” She almost reached out to touch something, but pulled her hand back, realizing what she was doing. “Master Myron at Goblin Market, the man who runs the herb store, would be impressed.”

“He has a lovely shop,” Gan replied. “My collection is small potatoes compared to what he has on hand. Just consider it the collection of a woman who had to take care of far too many children with runny noses and skinned knees.” She pushed aside a large jar labeled ‘Tabrun’s Simple’. “Aha! There you are,” she said, grabbing a glass bottle filled with an iridescent powder and sat it on the counter. “I think that will do it.” Walking across the room to a set of pegs that held her cloak and shawl, she grabbed her bag, then loaded it with the containers she pulled out.

Cullin watched all this activity from where he had been sitting, not commenting. Without word, he stood up and walked to the door and stepped out of the house. Gan turned to Leila, who in turn was watching as the door closed. The nymph sighed.

“Is there something wrong?” Gan asked, putting the last vial away in her bag before relocking her cabinet.

“It’s been a hard day for him. The integrity of his forest was threatened. A person he was asked to care for was threatened, either inadvertently or intentionally. He finds out the person he was supposed to care for isn’t nearly as vulnerable as he was worried about. He doesn’t take to being threatened well.”

“Who does?” Gan asked, taking off her apron, which she hung up on another peg.

“I don’t,” Arne said, from a perch up on the rafters.

“So why are you always threatening me?” Rufus asked, landing next to him.

“Because you ask stupid questions,” Arne said, giving him a shove.

Dahlia and Gillie, noticing what was going on, pushed Arne off his perch. “Stop that, you big bully! Gillie yelled.

“Stop threatening me!” Arne said

“Nobody threatened you,” Moxie said, flitting next to him. She grabbed him by the ear. “I can change that if you want.”

“No, no, no,” Arne said, waving his hands in front of him. “Let go! You know I hate to have my ears touched!”

“Stop pushing Rufus around, then.” Moxie let go.

The two larger women mostly ignored the little people. “It’s a bit hard for Cullin to cope with change. He usually needs some time to process. He will, but he has to digest it. Being around too many people sometimes makes it hard,” Leila said. “And finding out not only that someone wanted to breach his forest’s boundaries, and did it on a small scale without him realizing it until it was done is a new thing for him. The why and the how are going to gnaw at him until he’s figured it out.”

“Well, perhaps we’ll be able to help a bit with the how when we get to the site,” Gan said. She put on her cloak. “Let’s go round up Rob and go look at where it all happened.”

Picking up her bag, she headed out of the door.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<

In the Gray Lands, Violetta, Xhandi and the others followed behind the Shrine Mother and her honor guard. As they neared the Freehold’s gate, they began to pass the remains of old camps. In places, old tents had been abandoned, and ragged fabric from them flapped in the wind.

“This is different,” Xhindi said, catching up to the Shrine Mother. “This area used to be filled with people ready to go in or who were selling on their own.”

The Shrine Mother sighed. “Things have changed since the old Aufzee passed. The young master doesn’t allow any trading outside of the gates any more. The Freehold isn’t so free – it takes a share out of every transaction, either at the assayer’s office or at one of the trading houses. The caravan areas have been moved behind the gates so they can monitor what goes on. Anybody camping outside is under threat of being forcibly marched to the crossroads or worse.”

“Like sent to the mines worse?” Ruath asked. There was a bitter undertone to his voice.

“If the administrators fine them and they cannot pay,” the Shrine Mother said. “We offer them sanctuary when we can.”

“Some things never change,” he muttered, and fell silent.

They rounded a bend in the road, and a massive stone structure straddled the road. The rubbish from the abandoned encampments had been cleared away, leaving the area in front of the gates clean and bare. Two large gates stood in the center of the structure. Three travelers leading heavily burdened Eghtan oxen with their shaggy bodies and massive horns were being questioned by two guards as they neared.

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“Check in at the entry office,” he said to the travelers. “It’s the first building you see past the gate. They’ll examine your freight and give you the papers you need to buy and sell.”

“It wasn’t this way the last time I was here,” an older Jinn with long beard streaked with gray, said. He shook his turbinned head. “Is this the way the Freehold treats the people who feed them?”

The guard crossed his arms and sneered. “It’s the way the young Aufzee treats the people that took advantage of the Freehold and his father’s judgment for years. Trade here or go elsewhere, old man. This is the way we’re doing it now.”

“Father.” A young man standing next to the older traveler tugged on the older man’s sleeve. “Let’s just go. We’re already here. If we don’t like how it works, we can go elsewhere later.”

The older man nodded. “You’re right son. There’s always someone who wants bread and fruit.” He gave the guard a solemn look. “If the dealing is fair, we’ll be back. Only right to give them a chance.”

The guard nodded and made a hand sign, and the gate opened up part way, enough to let them through. Slowly, the men guided their burdened beasts in.

The Shrine Mother drew near to the gates, followed by her honor guard. The guard who had been talking to the traders, leaned back against the wall, half a smirk on his face, while his partner made a gesture of respect.

“Back already, Shrine Mother?” the smirking guard asked. “I thought you’d be halfway to the Holy Mountain by now.”

Her honor guard tightened their hands on their spears, but at a gesture from her, they stood down.

“Revitz,” the other guard said, elbowing his partner. “Respect. Don’t be an ass.” He turned to the Shrine Mother. “Forgive my partner, Lady. The newcomers have put some odd ideas in his head lately.”

Revitz gave his partner an angry look. “Speak for yourself, Zuuf. I’d say they opened my eyes. Venthies has opened his. You should open your own. There’s more for the Jinn than the Holy Mountain.”

“Believe as you will, Revitz son of the South Mountain people,” the Shrine Mother said. “Nonetheless, I and my guests are on the way to the shrine, and the pacts between the Aufzee and the Shrine still hold.”

“They do indeed, for the time being.” His tone was dark.

Zuuf signalled and the gate began to rise.

“Ashira, Xhindi, welcome,” Zuuf said. “You’ve been missed.

“Stay close to the Shrine Mother, Ruath. The young master doesn’t have the temperament the way the old Aufzee did.” Revitz spit. “There are people still hoping for a piece of you.”

“Enough,” the Shrine Mother said. “They are all under my protection. You would do well to spread that piece of news, more than Ruath’s return.”

At her signal, all of them rode through the gates.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<

For a change, the break room at the Dragon Web station was mostly empty. Two young men were finishing their meal near the entrance, and the only other person there was Umber Madrona at the table at the back of the room. He had a meal the Lunch House spread before him, a bowl of stew, a bread roll, a slice of cheese. He ate it slowly, looking up at the entry door frequently.

The two men finished their meal and headed for the front door, when it burst open and Lana Redstone pushed through, obviously agitated, her ruff standing at high alert, filled with the colors of irritation. The young men gave her plenty of room to pass as they headed out. Spotting Umber, she slightly calmed down and hurried to his table.

“Why did everybody pick today to send off their packages, all absolutely must arrive by tomorrow morning?” she asked, plopping her lunch bag on the table in the break room.

“Rough morning?” Umber looked up at her, dropping his spoon back into its bowl. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Irritating.” Lana sat down, and took a covered dish out of her bag. She continued frowning as she pulled the lid off, revealing a salad. “The mayor’s wife came in with a set of packages to be sent everywhere between Meridae to the White Isle. Even to Harani and Brissingham in the west. Each of them had to get to their destination tomorrow, by express shipment if necessary. Twenty two boxes of all different sizes and shapes. And she was rude about it, too. ‘Be sure they get on this afternoon’s carriage,’ she said. ‘All my relatives are expecting their Crossing Day gifts, and I’ll never hear the end of it.” Lana took a small bottle out of the bag and poured it over her salad.

“Of course, she didn’t care that a whole line of other people were behind her, needing to do the same thing. She hadn’t filled out a single address label in advance. And she expected to use the mayor’s discount. It didn’t matter a bit to her if she made people like Mistress Cabris was there with candy orders to all over the place for the same reason, or Master Longston with books, and…all of them had their orders ready to ship.” She pulled yet another package out of her lunch bag, and unwrapped some seeded flat bread. “And I had to be all soft words and smiles during the whole thing and try to keep my ruff under control. It wasn’t easy, not easy at all.”

Lana sighed and resting her elbows on the table, she cupped her chin in her head, and slowly let the anger drain from her face. Her ruff relaxed a bit more, and bit by bit, she gained a measure of calm. “Sorry to dump all that on you. ”

Umber watched her rant rather bemused, dropping his spoon into the stew he had been eating while she talked, and tried to give her reassuring nods. Reaching across the table, he took one of her hands away from her face and gave it a little squeeze. “Sorry you had to deal with all that this morning.”

She looked at his hand holding hers, managed a small smile, and squeezed his back. “ I hope your morning’s been better than mine.”

He nodded, but gave her an ironic smile. “My day’s been less than ordinary as well, but not nearly as traumatic. Thornfield kicked me out of the freight room this morning and said he was going to check in the morning shipment.”

Lana raised her eyebrow at that. “Does he do that often?”

“Every now and then. Claims it’s because I need to learn other things about being a DIC officer, but I suspect it’s when he’s receiving a shipment of things that are not quite sanctioned.”

“You mean things coming up from Brightwater?” Lana asked as he ate another bite of his stew. She rolled her eyes. “Everybody here knows that he and the Mayor are deep into the ‘not quite sanctioned’ business. And it’s not like it’s not well known that there’s always somebody at every Dragon Web station that handles that. Sounds like he doesn’t want to cut you into the profits. By rights he should be sharing the profits with you. That’s how they do it at most stations. The monies that would have been normally been paid as duties are divided up between the DIC workers, instead of being sent back to headquarters.”

Umber shrugged. “Maybe so...that sounds like something he might try to do. But it’s not like they don’t know he’s doing it back at headquarters, and how he’s doing it, no matter what he thinks.”

“Is that so?” Lana asked, finally digging into her salad.

Umber nodded. “I got that word from Master Byrony himself. And he’s like the second highest member of the DIC. But today, perhaps there’s more to Thornfield’s request than usual. There’s an auditor from the DIC headquarters coming by to look at our records. He piled the whole stack of them on my desk this morning, and told me to get them ready. After going through the first volume, I can see why he didn’t want to face the auditor himself. Everything before I came was...well, not quite orderly.” He gave her a bitter smile. “Nothing I can’t straighten up, but still…” He took another bite of stew. “It’s going to take a bit of time to get the papers ready. But I bet in Freight, there are unhappy voices about the whole thing. I can almost hear Gob grumbling while he runs through the invoices.”

Lana smiled at the mental picture, but then grew more serious, looked around the room and saw it was still just the two of them, but even so, she dropped her voice. “Did he ever warn you about red labeled packages?”

“On day two, the first day he showed me what to do with invoices.” Umber picked up a piece of bread. “Told me where to stack them in the freight area when they were incoming. Told me how to stack them up when they were outgoing.” He dipped his bread into his almost empty bowl. “I never thought much about it. I just figured they were some sort of special handling.” He shook his head. “Everybody knows there is a legitimate trade through Brightwater for things not on the sanctioned list. I don’t know why he made it into such a cloak and dagger game.”

“Profit, what else? I believe the mayor and his people have bottlenecked that trade, and boost the prices for it,” Lana said. “It’s a long way to the next market town. People would be willing to pay. Nothing exactly wrong with it, but…”

“Maybe there are things beyond the not quite sanctioned?” Umber asked, barely above a whisper. “Things that Brightwater and Jared Redbeard wouldn’t want their names associated with?”

“I’ve wondered that myself,” Lana said. “No real proof. If they are, it’s pass through. If things like dream dust were ending up here, it’d be hard to hide it.” She took another bite of her salad. “No proof, anyway, and it might all just be greed, and this really isn’t the place to talk about it.”

He nodded. “One day, you’ll have to tell me how you’re so up on things.”

“I could just be observant. Maybe I just take after my grandfather’s side of the family. The side with Investigator blood.” She took another bite of her lunch.

“We do tend to pay attention,” he said.

Nodding, she turned back to her lunch.