CHAPTER NINE

The Invisible Circle

VIII

Another hour passed. The sun slipped away beyond the right-hand edge of the world, while off to the left, the moon swam up to take its shift. A full moon, hazily orange as it crested the horizon; but the higher it rose, the crisper and bluer it became. In the twilight, the atmosphere around the mountain cooled, and the heatwaves wafting up from the caldera grew more vivid, distorting the downward view of dancing steam wraiths on the water. All the while the yellow light glided steadily up the mountain path.

Not a torch, Wilburn and Iddo decided; the glow was too unwavering. An oil lantern became their running hypothesis, until the thing drew near enough for them to judge that it was big—perhaps as big as Iddo—and egg-shaped, at which point Iddo declared it a Category-Q, explaining that this was a useful term for anything that you had no idea what category to put it in, animal, vegetable, mineral, magical—Category-Q—a big fat open-ended question.

The evening was still, and all was quiet save glugging of the lake. Then, gradually, a low murmur became audible and intensified to a rhythmic hum. It didn’t sound like human voices—but it was, for as the Category-Q ascended from the lower jungle and continued up the less-foliated portion mountain, a procession of dark human figures became visible marching in single-file behind it. Lots of people… hundreds of them… chanting… a monotonous, droning chant, wordless at this distance, and eerily emotionless. It made the hairs on the back of Wilburn’s neck stand up. The sound reminded him, in an unpleasant way, of insects.

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Iddo had gone very silent on their mental channel. They’re all psychovates…” he thought at last. “My word—this has to be some kind of record. The entire group is manifesting a collective shield, and I haven’t found the slightest flaw in it. That’s something only a handful of elite units in the Argylonian military are capable of… but never in such large numbers.

How many are there?

Can’t say. Their shield prevents me from discovering even that basic information without drawing attention to myself. The naked eye suggests at least a hundred, but there’s no telling how far the procession may stretch back into the jungle. What in the world has the PROVED gotten us into?

Are you gonna have to fight them? Wilburn wondered. He had gotten the impression that this was Alfajean’s plan.

Not if I can help it, Iddo thought grimly. On the contrary, I am probing their defenses with the utmost stealth. To provoke such a formidable assembly would be suicidal… like kicking the proverbial hornet’s nest…

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