 
# The Pursuit of a King

# (A Tale of Wisdom)

by

Candace Christine Little

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Copyright 2012 Candace Christine Little

Smashwords Edition

Cover art by Billee Kae Little

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this e-book and did not purchase it or if it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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To my professors at Dallas Christian College and Regent University.

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# Chapter 1: Summoned by the King

"How did we get here?" I asked in awe as I walked with my brother, Artemerio, through the halls of the palace of the king of Windsal.

"We walked," said Artemerio.

"I suppose I should have known better than to expect a serious answer from you. You know what I mean. To think of it—we were summoned by the king to present our request. You must admit, if we get no farther than this palace, we will have lived what some have only dreamed."

"You think too small, Barto. We may go down in history as the mightiest of men, and we may see palaces greater by far than—"

The echoes of our footsteps through the marble-floored hallways slowed. Confronted by the greatness of what were merely the doors of the throne room, Artemerio's words sounded vain and absurd.

Even he must have felt it. He stared at the door for a long moment, a hint of nervousness in his expression. But then he lifted his chin and straightened to his full height. His self-assured smile returned. "Here we go." He took hold of the massive door before him and led the way in to see the king.

I swallowed hard and followed.

I cannot adequately describe the splendor of that room—the fine marble, the exquisite touches of gold and jewels, the ornate thrones, the gleaming tapestries, the stately columns. And crowning it all were the king and queen, noble and glorious. Though they had seen many, many years, those years had enhanced rather than diminished their appearances. The beauty and elegance of Queen Athalia were beyond compare. So imposing were King Syroton's stature and deportment that I feared for any man who might face him in battle.

But the splendor was not limited to what was visible. Magnificence pervaded the air itself with a spectacular, inspiriting weight: the weight of goodness, of wisdom, of courage—of virtues so solid and real that they seemed not only tangible but transferable, like a richly scented oil that leaves traces of its fragrance on those who encounter it.

And I have no doubt Artemerio sensed it, too. When he offered the traditional courteous phrases due a king, his voice was shaky. Gone was the insincere ease with which he typically addressed those in authority. But even humbled, he was eloquent and bold.

I mumbled my greeting and made my bow, and then, with the formalities out of the way, Artemerio began to present our request.

"Good king," said Artemerio, "it has been our desire for some time to advance the cause of Windsal—to bring her greater honor, to improve her economy, and to multiply her lands. This can best be done through exploration and conquest. We appeal to you for the right to sail in the name of Windsal to discover for her what will be hers and hers alone, waiving all rights to establish our own lands. We appeal to you, for the love of Windsal, the right to leave her—"

A jester nimbly tumbled into the room, interrupting Artemerio's speech. "And in this way to improve her? Hah! I am sure she will improve the moment you set sail and leave her shores!" The jester brushed away a nonexistent speck of dust on his sleeve, adjusted the bells on his hat, and sat on an unimpressive wooden stool beside the king.

Artemerio's jaw tightened. He clenched his fists and pursed his lips. I thought—and desperately hoped—he might dismiss the provocation. But then his nostrils flared, and he breathed in sharply.

"Sail with me, then, and let us triple her improvement. Better yet, never return, and she shall stand in a glory she has never known." Artemerio's proud look dared the jester to respond.

"Gentlemen, I have something to say," said King Syroton. "Does it interest you at all?"

Having lost the reverential attitude he had had during his earlier speeches, Artemerio resorted to the superficial fawning at which he excelled. "A thousand apologies, King Syroton. Speak your will, and we will make it so." He bowed deeply.

"A thousand apologies are not necessary, Artemerio, if one apology is sincere," said the king. "I have not summoned you here only to hear your request. I have summoned you to have you solve a riddle for me. I understand that you and the very silent Barto already have all that you need to sail, but here is my offer: If you will solve this riddle for me, I will give you one of my own ships for your adventures."

Artemerio and I needed no time to discuss our answer. The offer of the king's ship was too generous to refuse.

"Yes—of course, Your Majesty," said Artemerio.

"Very well. Here is the riddle." The king began to recite:

" _My value is priceless, though I can't be bought._

I call out to all, though I must be sought.

I help men write laws, and I help rulers reign.

I turn all from waywardness, suffering, and pain.

Pursue me and choose me, whatever the cost—

Without me, the greatest of men would be lost.

_Who am I? What do all good kings pursue?_ "

King Syroton paused after he finished the recitation. A somber look stole over him. "When you return to me, you will be changed men—greatly changed. The dangers to you are more than you can guess. This is no small task. The fate of this kingdom rests on your shoulders. I can reveal no more to you than this. But take heart. I know you will return. And now the jester will explain to you how you are to begin your quest and where you are to go. Jester, proceed."

"Yes, sir." The jester jumped up from his seat and bowed sharply and quickly toward the king. Then he turned to us.

The faintest flash of a grimace crossed Artemerio's face.

The jester stared at him and smiled, as if he had seen the grimace and found it amusing. "Let those humble enough to follow and take orders from a mere jester follow me."

I took a few steps following after the jester but then turned back. "Your Majesty, we thank you for this opportunity." I bowed, and in doing so, I caught sight of the Windsalian insignia carved into the base of the throne platform. I gasped. Under the insignia were words that had been part of a strange dream I had had two nights before:

Secured not by a noble birth,

By soldiers' strength, or mighty works.

Secured by virtues daily shown.

Through justice, mercy, truth—a throne.

"Is something wrong, Barto?" said the king.

"N-no, Your Majesty." I bowed again and turned to follow the jester and Artemerio.

They were far ahead of me in the broad hallway that stretched away endlessly from the throne room, which may be why neither of them seemed to hear the whispers I heard as I left the king. But I know I heard whispers mingled with the echoes of footsteps.

"Barto, do not be afraid to speak," a mysterious voice said again and again.

Curious, I stopped. But when a quick glance around revealed no obvious source of the whispers, I hurried on, concerned at the thought of Artemerio alone with the jester.

***

Within a week, we were ready to begin our journey. The night before we were to sail, Artemerio and I discussed our travels as we dined.

"Barto, I have no doubt that we will be sailing for the Unconquered Lands in a month or two. The greatest difficulty we will face in solving this riddle is keeping our thoughts occupied as we cross the many miles of open country. The jester marked only six cities on the map for us to visit. I have heard tales of riddles taking lifetimes to be answered, but the king is sending us on a journey that should take only a matter of weeks."

"Perhaps—but have you not wondered why the king would make such a generous offer? What waits for us in these particular cities? And what do we know about solving riddles? We are the sons of a fisherman. We grew up in a small, unimportant village by the sea. Why would the king send us? There is more to this story than we see."

"Oh, I forgot. You heard those whispers. 'Speak, Barto.'" Artemerio laughed. "Perhaps there is a royal dog named Barto—and what you heard were orders given to him!" Artemerio laughed even harder and pounded on the table with glee.

"No, they were not orders given like that. The voice said, 'Do not be afraid to—' No. You are missing the point."

"Which is?" Artemerio asked, one eyebrow arched dramatically and a mocking smile on his face.

I sighed. "You can be so infuriating. The point is—why us?"

Artemerio raised his cup. "To us, may our—"

"What about the dream? The words on the base of the throne were the words from that strange dream I told you about. How do you explain that? And what about the king's words—that the fate of the kingdom is resting on our shoulders? Do you not feel a sense of destiny about this whole turn of events?"

Artemerio took a sip from his cup. "Yes, Barto. I do sense the same sort of strangeness you do. But what do you want me to do about it? Be as solemn and heavy-hearted as you? Think it strange that the king would find me worthy to be an adventurer? No. I do not know what you think we can figure out—or why we should spend any more time thinking this through. Solving riddles is a child's game! Surely we are up to the task." He raised his cup again. "To our destinies!"

***

We sailed to the southernmost point of Windsal aboard a swift, graceful ship called the _Lady Lucinda_.

"Barto! Where are you? We make landfall soon!" Artemerio called to me that morning. He barged into the cabin where I had been studying the maps—a map of my own and the map that the jester had delivered to us mere moments before we set sail. "Come!"

"Artemerio. Good. I want to show you something." I rolled up the maps and followed him out onto the deck. "I have discovered a very curious thing—"

"As have I." Artemerio glanced at the maps inattentively. "Well, perhaps _curious_ is not the word for it. But regardless—I have been talking with some of the members of the crew about our plans—you know, for after this riddle is solved. From what I hear, there are riches to be made beyond what we can imagine not six months south of Blackdragon Point. Ah—perhaps the spot could be found on your map. Why do you have two?" He took one of the maps from me and began to examine it. "We could easily—"

"That can wait. And the maps are maps only of Windsal. You will not find Blackdragon Point on either of them. But look. Look there on the map. See that city there—by your thumb? Now look at this other map. Same coastline. Same rivers. Same mountains. Same paths. No city."

"What are you trying to tell me? That one of the maps is wrong? Throw that one out, then. Now, back to what I was saying...Blackdragon Point...the Unconquered Lands...oh, yes—we could easily—"

"The map with the city is the one the jester gave us. The other map is mine. My map is a common map of the kingdom, as current as they come. I do not know what this means, but I do not think we should expect our journey to be as uneventful or as short as you seem to think it will be. And there are markings on the jester's map that are entirely foreign to me. They could mean mountain peaks or walls—see the ones I mean—the strange marks surrounding the city that is again by your thumb? I have a feeling we should be prepared for anything."

Just then a member of the crew called to us from across the deck. "Mr. Artemerio, Mr. Barto—we have reached the port. Will you be needing help with anything? We are to sail on as soon as you are safely deposited."

"Crewman Beefeathers," I said, "you may tell the crew we need no help, and we will be leaving you shortly after we dock. Thank you."

Artemerio had turned to stare at the coastline. The jester's map dangled loosely in the hand he had dropped to his side. "It is too late for examining your maps now, Barto. There is the port city of Sumada. We will be seeing the strange cities of the jester's map and discovering what his enigmatic markings mean very soon." He turned, his broad grin growing broader still. "And then—on to the Unconquered Lands."

# Chapter 2: Wit

A large, jovial-looking man with a full, red beard approached us on the dock. "Might you be the greatly anticipated Artemerio and Barto? Or Barto and Artemerio—however you like the names to go. I have a brother myself. Folks settled in on calling us by our names in a certain order—like salt and pepper, know what I mean? 'Pepper and salt' lacks the proper rhythm and grates on the nerves with its unexpected ordering." A curious look came over his face. "Pepper and salt. Pepper and salt. Pepper and salt." He laughed. "Aha! No! I am wrong. Sometimes pepper _must_ precede salt—for example, when one wishes to give extreme emphasis to the significance of one's request for pepper. Or when one describes a recipe in which pepper is the more prominent ingredient. Yes...yes...in both of those cases, the order simply must be reversed. And I am sure there may be other examples. But, anyway—Artemerio and Barto or Barto and Artemerio—are you they?"

"We are Artemerio and Barto. But who might you be?" said Artemerio guardedly.

"And were you salt or pepper?" I said, amused. "I am Barto."

The man laughed. "I beg your pardon. Wit is the name. I am the servant who is to accompany you to your first destination. The jester arranged it all. He thought you might be puzzled by his map. Many are. Maybe he should draw better ones. But I suppose if he did, I would be out of a job." Wit laughed loudly and heartily—but briefly. "Now, let me just collect your bags here. My horse, Estillo, will be coming along with us." He turned to me. "Pepper."

With our two bags in one hand and a bag of his own in the other, Wit clomped down the length of the rough, wooden pier. I started to follow after him, but Artemerio grabbed my arm and held me back.

"You think we should trust this man?" he whispered.

"You think we should not? He knows about the jester and the map."

"As would any clever thief. What was that last thing the jester said—something about pomegranates or pears and people we would meet—what was it?"

"I do not remember that rhyme you are talking about, exactly, but the gist of it was that the people we meet will be like trees: their fruit will tell us everything we need to know about them."

Artemerio frowned. "It is exactly as unhelpful as I expected it to be when I ignored it the first time."

_Crunch_. _Crunch_ , _crunch_. "You boys hungry?" Wit stood by Estillo holding a shiny, red apple toward us. "There are plenty more where this one came from."

Artemerio waved our refusal. Wit nodded and began to load our bags onto the back of his broad-chested, black horse.

"Do you suppose—" I whispered.

"No. The jester's ridiculous rhyme could not be so simple in its meaning. But we are wasting time and coming no closer to any answer. I suppose we must trust him." Reluctantly, Artemerio walked toward Wit.

"What can you tell us about this city we are going to?" I said to Wit when we reached him. "And, on second thought, I suppose I could use a bite to eat."

"Well, I can tell you, first, that I will not be going with you all of the way to the city—just to the falls." He finished the last bite of his apple and produced another for me from the pocket of a bag on Estillo's back.

"Falls?" I studied the remarkable brightness of the apple before I took a bite.

"Waterfalls. They are clearly marked on the jester's map." He brushed away a nonexistent speck of dust on his sleeve and adjusted his wide-brimmed hat. Then he reached for Estillo's reins.

"So that is what those marks were," I said. "But they look like they surround the city. How is that possible?"

"Plenty of water, Barto. Plenty of water." Wit laughed—a ringing, joyful, infectious laugh that I could not help joining, even if I did not understand why.

***

After hours of walking, we stopped to eat. Wit opened a bag and produced enough fruit for all of us.

When I had had my first taste of the fruit on the pier, I realized that what I was eating was not actually an apple. It looked like one, but the taste was quite different—purer, deeper, richer, sweeter. And it had an unusually nourishing quality that entirely satisfied my hunger.

Curiously, no matter how much the three of us ate, Wit's bag never seemed any emptier.

Wit finished eating before Artemerio and I did and left us to find a stream he thought he remembered. Nimbly and quickly, he scrambled over a nearby hill and then back again to report that he had found the stream.

"If you boys can travel a few hours farther, we will find better shelter. If not, this will do. It makes no difference to me," he said as the three of us filled our flasks at the stream.

"But what is the point of saving time by keeping us from becoming lost if we do not make the most of that saved time by pressing on?" said Artemerio. "I explained to the jester my hope that we would return from this little quest before the turn of the season—in time to set sail for the Unconquered Lands. Are you not here to hurry us along?"

Wit laughed. "Ah, no! I am not here to hurry you along. I am here to give you the joy you need to get where you are going."

"Joy? Why do we need joy? What kind of adventurers need joy?" said Artemerio with disgust.

"The kind of adventurers who do not think they need it—that is what kind. No wonder the jester sent me!" Wit roared with laughter, as if this were the best joke he had told yet.

Though I did not understand the joke at all, I could not contain my own laughter.

"Barto! What is so funny?" Artemerio looked bewildered—and annoyed.

But I was laughing so hard that I could not answer. It was not unlike being in the throne room, except this time joy was the fragrance that enveloped me.

When Wit's laughter had subsided, he said, "I take from your comments, Artemerio, that you would prefer to keep going."

"I would," said Artemerio.

"How long will this journey take us, Wit?" I said. "Do you know? The jester gave us a map that takes us to places we have never heard of, and some of the places do not appear on any other maps I have seen. Is there something peculiar about these places we are to visit?"

Wit looked serious for the first time since we had met. "Time has little to do with your journey, and how long the journey will take you, I cannot say. That depends on you. There _is_ something peculiar about the places you will be traveling to. And as I suspect you suspect, Barto, this is no ordinary journey you are on. Both of you must remember this: Solving the riddle is not merely a matter of going to these places and searching for clues. The riddle—and its answer—must become part of who you are through your journey to these places. That is all I can say."

His serious expression suddenly gone, Wit leapt to his feet and grabbed Estillo's reins. "Come along!" He led the horse—and us—in the direction of the waterfalls.

***

Early the next morning, while it was still dark, I heard sounds outside the cave where we had slept for the night. With more curiosity than alarm, I rose to investigate and discovered that Wit was no longer in his spot on the dusty floor. I crept out of the cave to see what was happening.

Wit was standing still with his arms raised above his head not far from the cave.

I took a few steps toward him. "Wit?"

"Do you hear that?" he said. "Just listen."

The longer I stood listening, the stronger the sensation became that the same fragrance of joy I had experienced before was wafting over me. As the fragrance grew stronger, the sounds I heard became more distinct. I realized I was hearing not many separate sounds but one unified sound—a song.

"Who is singing?" I whispered.

"The stars," he said. "For joy."

"Stars? I...I was under the impression that stars made no sound." If I had not actually heard the stars myself, I would have thought that what he was saying was nonsense. In the thin darkness of the morning, however, the singing stars and fragrance of joy seemed somehow not only normal but entirely appropriate. And the song was delightful—soaring and thrilling and hopeful. I began to wonder who Wit really was, and a shocking thought came to me. "Are they—are they singing to you?"

"No, no!" he cried.

I paused, trying to make sense of what was happening. "Then are you lifting your hands to them?"

"Never! They sing for—"

"What is that noise?" Artemerio said loudly as he peered out from the mouth of the cave—looking very displeased. "And why did you not wake me sooner? We could already have been on our way."

"They sing for the Great King," Wit said to me. He lowered his arms and glanced toward Artemerio. "I suppose it is time to go."

"I hope we are having something more than those strange apples for breakfast," said Artemerio. "And you have not answered me. What was making that odd noise?"

"You sound very, very...hungry this morning, Artemerio." Wit laughed and tossed him a piece of the apple-like fruit. "Come along." He hummed the song of the stars as he led us away from the cave.

***

Artemerio, Wit, and I were almost bent in half as we leaned into the raging wind that howled across the Great Wasteland. Estillo walked with his head low to the ground. With each step I took, my foot sank down in sand that gripped and grabbed and made walking slow and difficult. A hot sun beat down as flying sand swirled up and chafed whatever skin was not covered. During the two freezing nights we had spent on our journey, I had longed for the heat of the sun. But under the sun's piercing rays, I wished for night to return.

"How much longer until we are there?" Artemerio shouted to Wit.

I was as curious as Artemerio to know how much longer we would have to endure the wind, sand, and sun and waited eagerly for Wit's reply. But Wit did not answer.

"Wit!" Artemerio shouted. "Can you not hear me? How much longer until we reach our destination?"

"That is the wrong question," Wit shouted back.

"Wrong question?" Though Artemerio had covered his mouth to take a breath, I could see the scowl in his eyes. "What is the right question?"

"Will we get there?" shouted Wit.

"You mean you do not know? We might not make it?" Artemerio stopped walking.

Wit glanced over his shoulder at Artemerio and also stopped. "Oh, I know the answer. My question was a hint at the answer to your question. The answer to both questions is the same."

"But they cannot have the same answer!" said Artemerio. "An answer to a question about time requires a measurement of hours or days or weeks—or years, as the case may be for us. Your question's answer is either yes or no."

The wind swept up behind Wit and caused his red beard to flop up and down as he stared at Artemerio. Artemerio stared back, squinting now and then as gusts of wind blew sand into his face. Neither spoke for some time.

At last Artemerio sighed. "Very well. Just keep going. That will give us our answers."

"Yes!" Wit laughed. "That is the right answer to both wrong questions."

"Keep going?" I had to cover my mouth and nose with my cloak as a strong gust of wind made breathing impossible. When it passed, I continued. "But this is misery! How can we keep going? How will we ever make it?"

Wit laughed again. "Those are the right questions." He reached into his bag and tossed Artemerio and me each a piece of fruit. "Eat up." He faced into the wind and led us forward.

"Why will he not answer us?" Artemerio said.

"Somehow, I think he did." I stared at the fruit before taking a bite. And then, suddenly, I recognized the taste: joy.

***

Three days later, we reached the waterfalls. I do not remember much about those three days except the laughing I did at Wit's jokes and stories—even Artemerio chuckled now and then. And in between the moments of laughter, I remember brief moments, during the nights, of vicious cold and brief moments, during the days, of sand and heat. But those three days passed much more quickly than the two or three miserable ones before them, and at their end I was amazed to see that the waterfalls, which had seemed so distant, were actually so near.

What the map did not make clear about the waterfalls and the city surrounded by them was that the waterfalls flowed down from a giant tower of rock—a narrow mountain—that rose up out of the center of nothingness. We stood on the edge of a cliff staring toward the roaring water, but a deep, deep chasm separated us from the mountain.

"Is the city..." I leaned my head far back and looked up.

"Yes. Up there. At the very top," Wit said, pointing.

The top of the mountain—with whatever strange city it held—was too high above for me to see it.

"How can we possibly reach it?" said Artemerio. "Does the land connect somewhere? Do we need to walk farther around this cliff?"

"No," said Wit, "the land does not connect. This cliff is a rim that encircles a deep chasm—some would call it bottomless, and I suspect they are correct. The mountain rises up out of that. And as the markings on the map indicate, the waterfalls completely encircle it. The water actually flows out of the rock up there—somewhere below the city—below Lagal. It is quite a sight."

"But if we are separated by such a chasm, how can we reach the top? How did you reach the top?" said Artemerio.

"You cannot reach it. But you will. And now, boys, we have crossed the Great Wasteland. I was only to take you this far, so here is where I must be leaving you." Wit fed Estillo a piece of fruit and patted the horse's bobbing nose.

"But we left the Great Wasteland behind three days or so ago," I said. "Those first few days were miserable—the most difficult days of any journey I have ever been on. But the last few days have not been bad at all."

"Look behind you, Barto. See what you have crossed," Wit said.

I turned and looked out at the great expanse of empty desert behind us, astonished.

"Impossible," said Artemerio. "How did we cross miles and miles of the Great Wasteland without noticing?"

Wit laughed. "The only way a person ever makes it to the other side of such places—with joy. Without joy, you would have lost heart and turned back. Without the fruit, you would have perished." He unloaded our bags from Estillo and nimbly and quickly leapt onto the horse's back. "What kind of adventurers need joy, Artemerio?" Wit burst into laughter, and the horse reared up. "They are expecting you in Lagal. Just wait here. And now—away!"

With a slight nudge from Wit, Estillo galloped off.

# Chapter 3: The Deceiver

Artemerio and I stared at the rapidly shrinking figures of Wit and Estillo as they disappeared into the horizon. A stillness and a pleasant contentment settled over me. Tranquil sounds—the soft rushing and roaring of water falling—soothed away my worries about reaching the far-above city of Lagal. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the refreshingly cool breeze coming from the direction of the water.

"Strange, very strange," said Artemerio.

I opened my eyes.

Artemerio seemed to be deep in thought. But then he smiled broadly and began walking back and forth along the edge of the cliff. "Well...here we are, Barto. Who knows what excitement awaits us above!"

"Excitement? Do you not feel how peaceful this place is?"

Artemerio began rummaging through his bag. "Where is that map? Surely we can devise a way to reach the top of the mountain."

I was about to respond when I heard a new voice. It blended so smoothly with the sounds of the water that it was almost indistinguishable from them. Gradually, however, the voice became more distinct, and I realized I did not recognize the language the voice was speaking.

"What is this?" said Artemerio.

At Artemerio's words, I turned away from the water to look at him. Immediately, I understood his surprise. A tree had appeared next to him where there had been nothing before.

"Welcome. Eat the golden fruit of the tree." The voice uttered words in the strange language.

In one miraculous instant, white flowers blossomed, entirely covering the top of the tree in an explosion of life. Then, just as quickly, they withered and blew away, leaving behind an abundance of some kind of golden fruit that looked much like apricots.

I plucked pieces of the fruit and ate, as did Artemerio. The fruit's taste was mildly and pleasantly sweet, surprisingly like—peace.

The voice spoke again. "Now face the edge of the cliff and climb to the top." Incomprehensible words in the other language followed.

"Climb what?" Artemerio whispered to me.

But I did not have to answer. A ladder—white and gleaming like well-polished marble—grew down to us from above. I watched in amazement as each rung formed. The height we would have to climb on those rungs would have been unthinkable only moments before, but just as the sound of the water had had a calming effect on me, so the golden fruit seemed to soothe me, as well. I hardly gave a thought to the very great height—or, rather, the very great fall.

***

When we reached the top, we were greeted by a circle of about twenty men, all with long, white beards—beards the shortest of which was waist length, the longest of which was ankle length—and all wearing pale, gray robes.

Artemerio smiled the sort of ingratiating smile that typically preceded his words of insincere flattery. "Thank you, good people, for welcoming us to your most peaceful...uh...shores. No doubt you know why we have come—to solve a very great and mysterious riddle for the king. We humbly and gratefully accept your assistance. We—"

One of the men interrupted, shaking his head. "Oh, no, no, no. This one must not be allowed to speak." He looked directly at Artemerio. "You may not speak."

Artemerio opened his mouth, but no words came out. His face turned red, and he looked at me, gesturing first at his throat and then at the white-bearded men.

"I think my brother would like to know what has happened to him," I said.

Artemerio shook his head.

"How you were able to take his voice?" I looked at Artemerio for approval.

He shook his head and pointed at his mouth with a repetitive gesture that told me nothing.

I guessed. "Why he cannot speak?"

Artemerio nodded, and then we both looked at the elders for an answer.

"Of course," said the man who had silenced Artemerio. "But first, please allow us to properly introduce ourselves. We are the Elders of Lagal."

Various elders nodded their heads politely.

"How do you do?" said a few elders.

"Pleased to meet you," said a few others.

"Lovely weather for climbing, eh?" said the elder beside me.

The elder who had suggested the introduction cleared his throat. The polite greetings stopped. The elder continued. "You need no introduction. We have been expecting you. You are Artemerio and Barto, and you have been sent to solve a riddle for the king of Windsal. Artemerio, I apologize for the inconvenience, but something had to be done. As is true in all other places, words can heal or kill, build or destroy. But here in Lagal, you see, the effects are rather more immediate." As he spoke, wispy images appeared before me of people speaking and of their words healing or killing, building or destroying. The elder waved the images away with one hand. "Each word, therefore, must be cautiously chosen."

"Perhaps you should take my voice, too, then," I said, not having to think hard at all to recall very many words I had spoken and later regretted.

"We will not take your voice, Barto," an elder near me said. He smiled kindly. "And though you have come to us for our help, we need yours, as well."

"Yes," said another elder. "You see, sick and wounded people come from all over the world to us—to Lagal. Here, they can be healed." As he spoke, wispy images of the sick and wounded formed before my eyes. I saw their struggles. I saw their desperate journeys to Lagal. And then I saw them healed.

"I do not understand," I said. "How can we help?"

Artemerio glanced at me and nodded—somewhat reluctantly.

The elder who had most recently spoken spoke again. "A deceiver recently managed to slip in among the wounded. You can imagine the trouble he might cause here."

I could imagine the trouble. I shuddered.

The elder looked at me and nodded knowingly. "The deceiver knows the people of Lagal would not believe his false words or tolerate his destructive influence, but you two are—" He looked around at the other elders and said, "Gentlemen, what am I trying to say?"

"Not familiar with our ways?" said one elder.

"Not quite as careful as we in trusting outsiders?" said another.

"Not alert to the possible dangers?" said yet another.

"Oh," I said, "we are easy targets."

"No!" shouted the elders, and then "Duck!"

When I realized what I had said, I clapped my hands over my mouth and threw myself to the ground, nearly crushing Artemerio, who had thrown himself down faster. Several balls thrown by children playing catch, a few stones skipped across ponds, some arrows shot by an archery class, and one dart thrown at a dartboard somewhere in the city all rained down on us.

"And now you have seen the danger," said one of the elders as he rose from where he had thrown himself on the ground. He brushed himself off.

"What do you want us to do?" I said.

The elder closest to me, still recovering from the near catastrophe, looked up from plucking blades of grass from his beard. "If you would be willing to spend some time here—a week or two, perhaps—we think the deceiver will approach you, at which point he can be made to leave Lagal. Of course, you are free to speak your riddle, see what images appear, and go on your way. The choice is yours."

Artemerio looked at me, arched an eyebrow, and then scowled. I could guess what he was thinking: the sooner we solved the riddle, the sooner we could leave for the Unconquered Lands.

"We will help you," I said, avoiding Artemerio's gaze.

"Very well," said one of the elders. "Now we will give you a tour of the city and take you to your temporary home."

***

Artemerio and I had made a habit of taking long, wandering walks through Lagal in an effort to draw out the deceiver. But though we saw many beautiful sights and met many delightful people, after a week of such walks, we still had not encountered him.

As the second week began, we decided to return to one of the first parks we had discovered. I had not been able to forget the exquisite peacefulness of its paths, and Artemerio, who had given up hope that we would find the deceiver and had resigned himself to finishing two full weeks in Lagal to please the elders, did not object to my suggestion.

A smiling, young-looking man caught up with us on a trail that wound around a tree-lined lake. "Good day!" he said. "May I join you? Such excellent weather here." He had a natural sort of charisma that made him seem like an old friend instantly.

Artemerio nodded, and I said, "Good day. Yes, the weather is very pleasant."

"You are not from here, are you? I can tell by your accent. Such an intriguing accent. Tell me, are you from a coastal city in the western region of Windsal?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Oh, I know a good many things—about...about the kingdom in general, I mean. I am Dunley, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you. I am Barto, and this is my brother, Artemerio."

"Artemerio—that is an adventurer's name if ever I have heard one. It might interest you to know that I have recently been to the Unconquered Lands. There is plenty there to tempt a man such as yourself. Or, excuse me, men such as yourselves." He tipped his head cordially toward me. "Perhaps you are an adventurer, too, Barto."

Artemerio's eyes widened with excitement, and he opened his mouth to speak. But then he pressed his lips together in a tight frown.

Dunley gave him a curious look. "What is the matter? Can you not speak? Have you not been healed here yet? Or—" Dunley started chuckling. "I suppose you may have done something so bad or you might be such a threat that the elders took your voice. I have heard of that happening once or twice." He chuckled some more, but when Artemerio looked away, he stopped. "So that is it, then, isn't it?" Dunley stopped walking and stared at Artemerio with a look of stunned concern. "How awful. Those elders think too highly of themselves, in my opinion. But listen—there is something you must know." He motioned for us to lean toward him. After we obliged, he said very quietly, "Artemerio, you can still whisper. Even whispers carry some weight here."

Such an encouragement of rebellion seemed remarkably out of character for any of the people in Lagal that we had met. I became suspicious.

"All you have to do is whisper one word against the elders—confuse them, put them to sleep, or—" Dunley's smile became sinister. "Or destroy them and—"

_Do not be afraid to speak, Barto_. The unexpected thought gave rise to a desperate plan. Convinced by his evil words and his terrifying smile that Dunley was the deceiver, I wasted no time trying to test the plan out.

"Dunley, go—" I shouted, but Dunley lunged at me.

Artemerio grabbed at him, but he slipped through Artemerio's hands.

While Dunley was momentarily distracted, however, I shouted, "Dunley, go away!"

Dunley disappeared.

***

We quickly found the elders, and I told them what had happened. They seemed pleased and congratulated us. I had had time to consider what I had said, however, and I was not so pleased.

"I should have tried to capture him somehow," I said. "He could still come back."

"No, my boy," said an elder, "you did well. Dunley hates being in Lagal, and besides that, we have certain protections against him. No, he came for a very specific purpose. We are safe, but just as we suspected, he is after the two of you."

"After us?" I said. "But why?"

"We are forbidden to tell you any more than we have," said another elder. "But know that you have accomplished a great victory today. Many have fallen because of Dunley's deceptions. Do not think, however, that he will not try again. Solving the riddle is more important than you know. But, speaking of the riddle, you may do what you came to do. It is time. Speak the riddle, and see what appears to you."

Artemerio nudged me and pointed at his throat.

"First, if you do not mind," I said, "Artemerio wants to know when he will regain his voice."

Three of the elders conferred for a moment, and then one said to Artemerio, "You have seen enough of the danger now and have borne your limitation admirably. Artemerio, you may speak."

Artemerio wasted no time in using his voice. "You knew he was after us? What if something had gone wrong? Were you just going to let him have us?"

"You have misunderstood the situation," said another elder. "He could certainly tempt you, but he could do nothing more to you unless you chose to act on the temptation. Only you could protect yourself from that danger. And though we suspected he was after you, we were not sure of it until now. But now—do you not see? You drew him here. Most likely, he has been watching for an opportunity to attack for quite some time." As the elder spoke, wispy images appeared of Dunley following us—as we left the king's palace, as we stepped off the ship at Sumada, and as we crossed the Great Wasteland.

The elder let the images fade away before he continued his answer to Artemerio's questions. "If you had chosen not to face him here, you would have faced him for the first time in a place where you were not only unaware of his schemes, but also where he would not have been so easy to get rid of. Your brother chose well in agreeing to stay and help us. No more questions. Speak the riddle. See your answer."

I had rehearsed the riddle so many times in my mind that I could recite it with no difficulty:

" _My value is priceless, though I can't be bought._

I call out to all, though I must be sought.

I help men write laws, and I help rulers reign.

I turn all from waywardness, suffering, and pain.

Pursue me and choose me, whatever the cost—

Without me, the greatest of men would be lost.

_Who am I? What do all good kings pursue?_ "

As I spoke, wispy images appeared. The shapes were difficult to discern at first, but a moment later I could tell that what I was seeing was a beautiful woman with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. Her arms were outstretched, as if she stood beckoning to someone, and she was speaking. Then the images faded away to nothing.

"What does it mean?" I said.

"That is for you to find out," said one of the elders. "But you may now speak yourself to your next city. Since one never quite knows what to expect in a new place, I advise you to speak yourself to just outside the city."

"The Unconquered Lands await!" said Artemerio, and then, ignoring the advice of the elder, "To Folpin!"

Immediately, we were in a beautiful, bright, shining city.

# Chapter 4: A Throne

The beauty of Lagal had been in its simplicity and purity. Every tree seemed to be all that a tree should be, and every lake was a lake exactly suited to its location. Each home, similarly, seemed perfectly matched to its inhabitants: no home seemed too extravagant, and no home seemed too plain. Everything in Lagal seemed to be all that it should have been.

The beauty of Folpin, by contrast, came not from its essence but from the richness and variation of all the colors and designs of its many buildings. Everything about the city exuded excitement and opulence. Being in Folpin felt like being in a dazzling, sparkling, frantically spinning piece of art.

"Have you ever seen anything more beautiful in your life?" said Artemerio. "Can you not sense that anything is possible here—that anything a person could possibly desire could be found here? It is almost enough to drive dreams of the Unconquered Lands entirely from my thoughts. What could be found there that could not be found here?"

"You cannot be serious."

"I said almost." Artemerio smiled a beaming smile as he looked all around. "Ah, look! Of course such a magnificent place would have amiable inhabitants."

A tall man with dark hair and dark eyes had waved to us from some distance away and then had started walking quickly toward us.

I looked behind us to see if someone there might have been the intended recipient of his friendly gesture. But no one there seemed to be paying any attention to the man at all.

When he reached us, he bowed—dramatically and somewhat exaggeratedly. "Greetings, young noblemen. Welcome to the fair city of Folpin. We are honored to have you as our guests and will do all we can to aid you in your quest. I am Finley."

"We are on a quest," I said. "But I think you are confused. We are the sons of a fisherman. And we are adventurers. But we are not noblemen. Definitely not."

"Oh, but you are wrong." Finley smiled, and his gaze locked on Artemerio. "I know a king when I see one."

Artemerio seemed not to know what to say. His face turned slightly red, and he looked away from Finley. "No offense, Finley, sir, but you must be mistaken."

Finley continued to smile. "I am not mistaken. You are Artemerio and Barto, the sons of Miltor. I have been expecting you. Follow me. Your rooms are prepared at the castle."

"But how—" I began.

Finley bowed as if he had not heard me and quickly turned.

Artemerio and I followed him across a nearby bridge and onward to the castle.

***

Our first day in Folpin was spent taking a lengthy tour of the city, led by Finley. Most of the second day was spent with tailors and barbers—to prepare us for the lavish feast Finley had planned for the evening to introduce us to the city leaders.

"What can be the purpose of all of this?" I whispered to Artemerio when, for the briefest of moments, Finley and all of our attendants happened to be out of the room at the same time.

"You heard Finley—we are noblemen," said Artemerio.

"But we are not!"

"You think too small. Perhaps we are."

"But—"

The entrance of a tailor cut short the conversation.

Hours later—looking and smelling as I had never imagined we might look and smell—we took our seats at the large table in the great hall where the feast was to be held.

Finley looked exceedingly pleased as he came to greet us. "Magnificent. Truly regal." He bowed.

The food served during the many courses of the meal was as rich and varied as everything else about Folpin, and the city leaders wore garments fit for kings—though their garments were not as fine as the ones Artemerio and I wore. Even the servants were dressed in gold, luxuriant velvet, and shiny satin. To entertain us during the meal, musicians played songs on stringed instruments while dancers performed delicate, complex dances. As Artemerio had said the day before, it was easy to believe that anything one desired would be available in Folpin.

After the last course had been served, Finley rose and began to speak. "No doubt you have all heard of the excellent Artemerio and Barto. We are honored to have them as our guests. No doubt you have also heard of their quest and are as eager as I to help shape their destinies. Great citizens of Folpin, I present to you Artemerio and Barto."

The city leaders clapped and cheered.

Awkwardly, I offered a feeble smile and a curt nod. Artemerio, however, smiled broadly and waved—as a king might wave to his subjects.

"We thank you for your welcome, good people of Folpin," said Artemerio. "As Finley mentioned—yes, we are on a very, very, very important quest. But we humbly offer you our services while we are here within the pleasant borders of your fair land, and we thank you in advance for the invaluable assistance we are sure you will provide."

Finley answered with exaggerated graciousness, "Of course, of course. We want nothing more than to assist you." He paused. "And we have heard of the great service you rendered the people of Lagal and have been eager to ask you to help us. But first, it is my distinct honor to give you what you seek—the answer to your riddle. The answer is power."

"That cannot be correct," I said. "The riddle begins, 'My value is priceless, though I can't be bought.' Power can be bought—maybe not like fruit or fabric at a market, but it can be bought."

Finley turned and stared into my eyes. "Power is the answer to everything." A flash of something dark and dangerous appeared in his eyes as he stared at me, though he continued to smile. He looked away from me and fastened his attention on Artemerio. "As I was saying, power—it is how I know you are to be king, Artemerio. It is what has made Folpin the splendid city that it is. It is what all great men dream of having—as your riddle says. We can offer this same power to you."

Artemerio was strangely silent. Though I did not know the answer to the riddle, I knew power was not it. I had a vague but growing feeling that something was not right. And Artemerio seemed either unwilling or unable to challenge Finley.

"Pardon me, Finley," I said. "You have misquoted the riddle. The answer to our riddle is not something great men dream of having. It is something they are lost without."

Finley's terrible gaze again found me. "You are mistaken."

"No, I am not," I said.

Finley's smile was pinched. "Yes—I am quite familiar with your riddle. You have remembered it wrongly."

"Why are you so familiar with our riddle?" I said.

"Why would you be sent to me if I were not?" said Finley.

I had no answer.

"You mentioned that you needed some sort of help, Finley. What do you need from us?" said Artemerio.

Finley returned his attention to Artemerio and smiled eagerly. "Yes. Before I present our request, I must acknowledge that we could not ask this of men less humble or less noble. What we are asking of you will seem to require a great sacrifice on your part. We appeal, therefore, to your kindness and your courage." He paused dramatically. "Our request is that you stay here. Artemerio, be our king. Sit on a throne here in this very castle. Barto, stay and advise him."

"You mean give up on the riddle—give up on sailing to the Unconquered Lands?" I said.

"Yes," said Finley. "We desperately want you to stay and lead us. And I have given you the answer to your riddle. We can send a messenger to give the answer to the king, and then your quest will be entirely completed. As for the adventures you hope to find in the Unconquered Lands—who can say what that future holds for you? Perhaps adventure. Perhaps glory. Perhaps fame. Or perhaps failure, suffering, and death. Why take the risk? We can offer you all that you hope for—and more—right here, in Folpin."

I felt sure Artemerio would object. But he did not.

"You will understand, I am sure, that I would like to discuss this with Artemerio in private," I said.

Finley's eager smile faded slightly. "Yes, of course. Please do. We would not want you to make a hasty decision." His magnanimous tone did nothing to convince me his words were sincere; I had a feeling a hasty decision was exactly what he had been hoping for.

The festivities Finley had planned for us lasted well into the night, and after that, Artemerio insisted he was too tired to discuss anything before morning.

With growing concern, I agreed to postpone the conversation.

***

The next morning, before we could discuss Finley's offer, Artemerio insisted that we dress in the rich suits of clothing Finley had provided for us and that we attend the formal breakfast Finley had arranged for us.

Despite my fears regarding what else Finley might have planned, the meal passed uneventfully, and after breakfast, Artemerio and I left the castle to walk through the city.

The many waves of color that struck my eyes were entirely unwelcome to me, but Artemerio seemed to enjoy all of the sights.

"It calls to me," Artemerio said.

"What does? The riddle? The ship the king offered us? The Unconquered Lands? The next city we are to visit? What? Surely not this city. You cannot mean this garish monstrosity of a city calls to you."

"No, not this city, exactly. I mean the throne. I feel it in my heart. All Finley's talk of power—well, I cannot say I was tempted by that. But the idea of a throne calls to me. Something about the idea of being king strikes me as so right and true that I cannot stop thinking about it. I think I _will_ be king."

"But we cannot stay here!"

"Why not?" said Artemerio. "Where could we ever find such wealth and beauty again?"

"We are on a quest. The king sent us on a mission to solve the riddle. Have you forgotten? And I have never heard of there being any king in Windsal other than the king _of_ Windsal. You remember him, do you not? King Syroton? What Finley has offered sounds like it may border on treason or rebellion."

"It is my decision to make, Barto. Finley offered me the throne, not you."

"But the Unconquered Lands—what about the Unconquered Lands?"

He stopped walking. "No more discussion. I am returning to the castle."

I had stopped with him, but at his words I began walking again. "And I am going to finish my walk," I said, too baffled and furious to look back at him.

***

I had been wandering for an hour by the time I arrived at the edge of the city. I could see a forest just beyond a clearing, and since I wanted more than anything to be out of the chaos of sights and sounds in Folpin, I decided to keep going. I took one step beyond the sign marking the city's boundary and instantly felt rain pouring over me.

"What is happening?" I cried out in surprise.

There had been no clouds in Folpin. I looked back toward the city but saw only a dingy, decaying line of shacks surrounded by some sort of bubble. The rain was falling on the bubble and bouncing off, never reaching the area inside. From the outside, I could see the exact boundary of the city, and I began to pace up and down along its edge, slipping and falling now and then in mud.

During one of those falls, I noticed the boots I was wearing were worn and gashed and horribly stained. And then I realized the rich suit of clothes I had been wearing when I left the castle had been replaced by tattered, ill-fitting rags.

"What— How— What—" I stared at my arms and legs as if I had never seen them before.

I heard someone shouting from the forest behind me. "Hello, there! Wait! You must not go in!"

I turned to see who was speaking and saw an elderly man in a plain, brown cloak leaning on a crooked wooden cane. He hobbled toward me, but his movements were remarkably nimble and quick. He soon reached me.

"I say, my boy, what business do you have in such a place as Folpin? Have you not read the sign?" The man took a few steps away from the edge of Folpin and tapped his cane on a small monument of stone I had not noticed. "Do you know the dangers that wait inside? Here, read for yourself." He walked back to me and gently but firmly prodded me toward the sign with his cane.

I began reading aloud. "'Woe to all who choose this cursed land—woe and knowledge bought at much too high a price. Here dwells a people that has chosen to live—and die—by the dark art of magic. Be warned: All that magic offers is a lie. All. Dark forces give power to all magic, and those dark forces will hold you in their debt. Turn back now—and live.'"

A wave of panic swept over me as I thought of Artemerio—still inside and possibly agreeing to be king.

"Here, my boy, have a bite to eat. You look pale." From a bag that was draped across his chest, the man pulled out what looked like a peach. He handed the fruit to me. "And this rain has already soaked you. Where is your cloak?" He began rummaging through the large bag. "I have a small blanket."

"Sir, I appreciate your kindness, but I must hurry. My brother is still in there. And the people of Folpin have offered him a throne!"

"Even so, you should eat, my boy. You will need your strength. One thing is certain."

"What?"

"What you already know—that you must go back."

# Chapter 5: The Guard

The elderly man handed me a blanket.

"Of course. Yes. And I suppose I should have some sort of plan." I bit into the fruit he had given me, desperate to concoct a plan to save Artemerio. But whatever the fruit was, its effects were so overpowering that I could not think the sort of desperate thoughts that had gripped me mere moments before. The fruit strengthened me, restored me to my senses, and removed any lingering desire I had for the rich delicacies of Folpin. Only after I finished eating did I recognize the sharp, clean taste: goodness.

"Oh! I see your color has returned!" said the man. "Now perhaps you are ready to go back and save your brother."

"You are far more familiar with this terrible place than I am. Is there any wisdom you can offer me regarding the situation?" I said.

"Wisdom...yes." The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were holding back a smile. "What will happen once you return to the castle, I cannot say, but I can tell you two things. The first thing is that your brother must not accept the throne in Folpin. But you already knew that. No new wisdom for you there." He brushed away a nonexistent speck of something on his sleeve, adjusted the hood of his cloak, and leaned more heavily on his cane. "The second thing is that all you can do is what is in front of you to do. Let the _what if_ s and _if only_ s fall away. Set your face firmly forward, and take the next step." He smiled. "Now you are wiser, my boy. And now you must go back."

"Thank you, sir." I handed him his blanket and began my return.

***

Once I was inside the bubble surrounding Folpin, the decaying shacks again became bright buildings. The instant change from clouds and rain to sun and clear weather shocked my senses, and I was startled to discover I was completely dry, as if none of the rainwater from the outside world could pass through the bubble. And I was again richly dressed. Were it not for the patches of dried dirt on my clothes where the mud had been, I might have wondered if I had imagined my experience outside the city.

But something had changed within me, and I began to notice what I had only suspected before. The frantic pace of the city was driven by hysteria, not excitement. And on the faces of the people I saw desperation and grief.

I had no time to think about such things for long, however. I set out in a run for the castle. Wandering from the castle to the edge of the city had taken me an hour, but a more direct course—aided by helpful signposts, Folpin's one redeeming quality—greatly shortened the time of my travel.

As I neared the castle, I slowed my pace and tried to compose myself. I had no plan other than to confront Artemerio with what I had learned.

I succeeded in reaching Artemerio's room without meeting Finley. Servants I encountered stared at the large patches of dirt on my clothes, but no one asked where I had been.

Without knocking, I burst through Artemerio's door.

"Barto! Where have you been?" Artemerio said.

I quickly but quietly closed the door behind me. "You have not accepted the throne yet, have you?"

"No."

"Good. You must not—I know it is your decision—I know. But—please trust me—you absolutely must not. And we must leave immediately."

The door opened, and a voice said, "Leaving so soon? Where are you going?"

I spun around, heart pounding, to face Dunley. "What are you doing here? Never mind. My brother and I are leaving."

"I am afraid not." Dunley eyed the dirt on my clothes. "You are guilty of a very serious crime. Guards, take them away."

Guards marched into the room and surrounded Artemerio and me.

"Crime? What crime? What are you talking about?" I shouted at Dunley as the guards dragged us down the hallway.

Dunley did not answer.

***

Artemerio was chained to the rough stone wall beside me in the dungeon.

"What have you done, Barto? Does this have something to do with why your clothes are so filthy?" Artemerio asked in hushed tones.

"I don't know. I suppose it might be against the law here to leave. And I suppose Dunley might have guessed I left Folpin because of my clothes. But—"

"Wait—Dunley? Do you mean Finley? We have not seen Dunley since Lagal."

"No, Dunley was just in your room. He is the one who sent us down here. I have not seen Finley since I returned."

"You are not making sense. That was Finley who called for the guards and had us brought here. Barto, what is wrong with you? What has happened?" Artemerio's chains clinked as he turned, as much as he was able to, toward me.

Suddenly it became clear to me that Finley was really Dunley all along. I began telling Artemerio what had happened.

"So you see," I said, "Finley is Dunley. And Dunley was trying to convince you to become the king of Folpin. He must be trying to trap us here and keep us from completing what must be a very important quest." I paused. "Do you believe me?"

"I must. Finley—or Dunley—seemed nervous when I came back to the castle without you. He asked me again if I would take the throne, and I told him I still had not decided. He then ordered me to stay in my room, and I heard him tell the guards that you were not to be allowed in to see me, no matter what they had to do to you. Of course, he phrased it all so nicely that I almost did not realize what was happening."

"Then you do not want to be king anymore?" I said, hopeful he would mention exploring and the Unconquered Lands.

"Oh, I want to be king—more than ever. I can hardly think of anything else. But I am not enough of a fool to think that someone who threatens my brother and throws me in a dungeon is to be trusted."

The heavy dungeon door creaked open, and Dunley slowly and deliberately walked down the gray stone steps.

"I am afraid I have some bad news," he said as he reached the last step. "We have found you guilty of a very terrible crime." A look of cruel delight spread across his face. "Justice requires that you either be doomed to serve in Folpin forever as the lowest servants we have or that you be—ended. No definite decision has been made yet regarding your fate. But rest assured, I will keep you informed." He smiled as if he had been discussing the weather or a day at the lake. "I doubt I will have any more news for you until morning. I do hope the suspense will not ruin your sleep." He turned to leave.

Halfway up the steps, he looked down at us and said, "You should hope your ending will be nothing too painful. Oh, if it comes to that, I mean. Perhaps you will be spared from death." He took a few more steps. "But perhaps not. Who can say what will happen? Enjoy your evening. Pleasant dreams."

***

We had no way of knowing when night fell, but my weariness convinced me we should try to rest.

"We can take turns sleeping," I said.

"I will take the first watch," said Artemerio. "And I have discovered that if you turn your head like so, you can rest it against—"

The dungeon door creaked open.

Artemerio glanced at me. I could see his concern. With dread I waited for Dunley to appear.

"It is one of the guards," Artemerio whispered a moment later.

The guard approaching us was wearing the same sort of uniform worn by the other guards, but he had a different look about him than the other guards. After my return to Folpin, I had adjusted to seeing the previously pleasant servants and the previously intimidating soldiers as pitiable creatures full of misery, despair, and hatred. But here was something I had not yet seen: though this guard's expression attested to his suffering, it also attested to some faint hope he held.

Once the guard reached the bottom of the steps, he walked straight to Artemerio and looked into his eyes.

"I had a dream about a king who came to set us free," said the guard. "Rumors are floating all around the castle about you, and I know the Master fears you. Tell me, can you save us?"

"I—I don't know," Artemerio replied.

"What can you tell us about the crimes Dun—I mean, your master is claiming we committed?" I said.

"I do not know the details," said the guard. "Most likely he has made everything up to dispose of you. But whatever the charges, what you must do is appeal to Lady Justice. It is our only hope."

"How do we know we can trust you?" said Artemerio.

The guard's face showed his grief and despair. "I have lost everything, and the torture I have endured at the hands of the Master is more than I can bear to describe to you. I do not think you will understand the true horror of my saying there is nothing here that is good, so I will ask you only to understand that all here is futility, emptiness, and decay." He took hold of the collar of Artemerio's shirt in his fists—in desperation, not anger. "This is my fate for all eternity! Hope is a word I have not dared to speak for one hundred years, yet here in a dungeon I have whispered it to you. When I tell you that appealing to Lady Justice is our only hope, do you understand what I am saying? Can you trust a starving man to tell you how to get a bit of bread for him? You are right to think I would do no favors for you. But I am that starving man, and you can help me get that bit of bread." He stared at his hands, as if he were shocked by the strength of his own emotion. He let go and stepped back.

"We will appeal to Lady Justice," Artemerio said. "But is there anything else you can tell us?"

"I have told you all I can. I have been here too long already. I must go." The guard slipped quickly up the steps and out through the creaky dungeon door.

***

The next morning, the dungeon door opened again. Dunley came down the steps and began to pace in front of us.

"Gentlemen, I trust you slept well? Not quite a room fit for a king, is it?" Dunley smiled. "I am afraid I have some rather distressing news for you. As I am sure you must remember, you have been found guilty of a terrible crime. Your fate has now been decided. One of you will be ended, and the other will be allowed to live and serve me. It is bittersweet news, I am sure. But just wait—there is more." He paused. "The two of you shall decide together which one of you will live."

Dunley's words sickened me, and I understood a little better why the people of Folpin wore looks of such deep misery. If not for the conversation with the guard, if not for his mention of hope, I have no doubt I would have been overwhelmed by fear and anguish. As it was, Dunley was halfway up the steps before my thoughts had settled and turned to demanding the appeal.

"We appeal to Lady Justice." My voice was much steadier than I expected.

Dunley stopped. The expression on his face changed entirely, from a look of amusement to a look of rage. He stomped back down the steps.

"What did you say?" His tone was demanding.

"We appeal to Lady Justice," said Artemerio.

"Lady Justice." Dunley spat on the ground violently and then writhed as if hearing the name was unbearable. He regained his composure quickly, however. "Very well. To Norin and Lady Justice you will go." He walked up the steps. The look of amusement did not return to his face, and he slammed the dungeon door behind him.

"Norin— Is that not—" Artemerio began.

"Yes—on the jester's map it is the next city we are to visit," I said.

# Chapter 6: Lady Justice

Dunley had the guards blindfold us before we left Folpin. He made us march, hands tied behind our backs, while he and most of the guards rode horses.

I stumbled over rocks and roots, unsure of each step, as the ropes that my guard held pulled me forward at an uncomfortable pace. But the weather outside Folpin had improved since the last time I had left. No rain fell. I was just beginning to think that the circumstances of the day might be working in our favor when suddenly I recalled—with great panic—that all that we had brought with us to Folpin—including the jester's map—had been left behind at the castle.

"We must find a way to retrieve the jester's map," I whispered to Artemerio when the guards stopped to eat.

"Are you certain the guards will not hear us?" Artemerio whispered.

My blindfold, loosened by the jolts and tumbles of the unsteady journey, had slipped enough to allow me a narrow gap of vision. I surveyed our surroundings.

"Yes," I whispered.

"After Dunley ordered the guards not to let you in to see me, I made up an excuse and went to your room. The jester's map is folded up in my boot."

"Your boot?"

A guard approached us—the one who had come to us in the dungeon. "I convinced Dunley to let you have some water," he said quietly.

I felt a flask at my lips and took a long drink.

Loudly and roughly, the guard said, "Can't have you collapsing before Lady Justice." But then he whispered, "We are nearly there."

***

I knew we had reached Norin when I began to smell the delicious, simple, wholesome smell of baking bread. Soon after, I felt cobblestones under my feet and heard the clomping of horse's hooves on the streets.

Dunley kept us blindfolded all the way into the court of Lady Justice, but even with the blindfold I could sense a splendor in the court similar to what I had sensed in the presence of the king and queen.

After Lady Justice's officials made Dunley remove our blindfolds, Artemerio whispered to me, "It is Dunley! And the guards—are these the same guards that were with us in Folpin? They look so...different. And what happened to our clothes? We look like beggars."

Lady Justice's officials led us forward and toward her, and for the first time, I noticed that she was blindfolded. Her golden curls were pulled back loosely away from her face, and she wore a long, white robe. She stood majestically on a raised platform that was somewhat like a stage.

"The accused, Artemerio and Barto, are before you now, Lady Justice," said an official in a long, dark blue robe.

"Very well," she said. "And where is their accuser? What are their crimes?"

Dunley stepped nearer to the Lady. "I, Dunley, am their accuser, Lady Justice. Their crimes are of the worst sort. They are guilty of rebellion against the king of Windsal, and they are worthy of death."

"Guilt and punishment are for me to decide," said Lady Justice. "Artemerio and Barto, how do you plead? Do you say you are guilty or not guilty?"

"We are not guilty, Lady Justice," said Artemerio.

"Accuser," said Lady Justice, "the accused claim innocence. Present your evidence, and prove their guilt, if you can."

Dunley began to tell the story of our visit to Folpin, of the many times he had offered Artemerio the throne, and of the many times Artemerio had not refused.

"And that is why, Lady Justice, these two are here now before you. Their guilt is plain," said Dunley.

"Accuser," said Lady Justice, "is your entire case against them based on this lack of a refusal to take a throne?"

Dunley hesitated before answering. "Yes—but I do not think you understand the look in Artemerio's eyes when I offered him the throne. A little more pressure and I feel sure he would have accepted. In fact—"

"Stop!" said Lady Justice. "Having failed to sway Artemerio with your deceptive offering of a throne, you now seek to have him condemned for the temptation you have attempted? This is the whole of your claim against him?"

"Yes," said Dunley. "But, again, Lady Justice, I must say that with only a little more prodding, he would have agreed to rebel against the king of Windsal by establishing his own throne."

"Nevertheless, what a court deals with is the act of rebellion itself. Being tempted to commit the act is not a crime. Which is worse—for a person to rebel against the king out of a desire for power or for a person to rebel against the king out of hatred for the king? Both motives are corrupt, but neither motive is punished—only the act of rebellion itself is. Who knows what thoughts produced the look you saw in Artemerio's eyes or what thoughts kept him from accepting or refusing the throne? Who but the Great King is fit to judge the heart? But I know that you know these things and that you are now attempting to deceive me regarding what the law requires."

"Lady Justice, I would never—" Dunley began.

Lady Justice interrupted him. "I am not deceived. You have offered no evidence of any acts of rebellion. Artemerio and Barto are free to go."

One of Lady Justice's officials walked toward a small group that had been sitting quietly in the back of the courtroom and waved for them to come forward. "Lady Justice will hear you now."

A guard from Folpin began to untie Artemerio's hands. Dunley, scowling, ordered the rest of the guards to prepare for the return journey.

But then the guard who had visited Artemerio and me in the dungeon ran to the front of the court and threw himself at the feet of Lady Justice.

"Mercy, Lady Justice!" he cried. "Have mercy and help me, I beg you!"

"Sir, I believe others are waiting," said Lady Justice.

"They are," said one of Lady Justice's officials.

"You must wait, sir," said Lady Justice.

"But I cannot!" The guard stood. "I am a servant of Dunley. If you do not hear me now, he will not allow it. My life is not my own. I beg you! I beg you!"

A whispered conversation began among the members of the small group that had been waiting. Then one of them nodded to Lady Justice's official, who told Lady Justice of their willingness to allow the delay.

"Very well," said Lady Justice. "What help do you seek from me, servant of Dunley?"

"Freedom, good Lady," said the guard. "Dunley offered me my heart's greatest desire, but in exchange, he made me his slave forever. I am not alone. There are many of us. Dunley is a liar and a thief. Will you not command him to release me? Can you not unmake this wicked contract?"

"I know of Dunley's reputation as a liar and a thief, but, tell me—what claim does Dunley have to you? Did you break our law?" said Lady Justice.

"I did. Yes, it is true," said the guard with despair. "I wanted to be a great man. And to be that, I used..." He paused. "I used magic. Dunley promised me great power through magic. But you do not understand—I wanted to be a great man to help others, to do good things, and to be loved. Are those not noble purposes?"

"Such laws as the one you have broken exist to protect as well as to limit. Justice can grant no relief from the consequences of your act. You chose to abandon what protection the law afforded you," said Lady Justice. "All magic brings a curse and binds those who practice it to the dark forces that provide it. In accordance with that truth, our law forbids its practice entirely, and no purpose justifies the use of the dark arts—of magic. The law condemns you. Justice requires that you serve the master you have chosen."

At her words, the guard buried his face in his hands and wept. "Mercy!" he cried out as he sobbed. "Mercy! Mercy!"

Lady Justice took off her blindfold, looked down at him, and began to weep herself. An almost tangible fragrance—mercy—began to fill the room. It washed over me in a wave and brought tears to my eyes for the miserable guard.

"You have confessed your wickedness. Now renounce it and turn to the Great King—and find the mercy you seek," said Lady Justice. "Dunley and his forces will never willingly give you up. It is not their way. But you may choose to swear allegiance to the Great King—to follow and serve him all the days of your life. Then and only then will you be free. Only he can protect you from Dunley."

"Do not listen to her!" said Dunley, as good-humored and pleasant as he had been when Artemerio and I had met him in Lagal. "Why have you not mentioned your unhappiness until now? Come, friend—let us consider your future and all of the greatness that awaits you under my care. Besides, the freedom she speaks of is not true freedom. I can promise you that."

"The greatness you speak of is not true greatness," said the guard. "And what do you know of promises—except how to break them most cruelly?" He knelt at Lady Justice's feet. "I want no part of magic or of Dunley. I choose to serve the Great King. Where do I find him?"

"We will take you to meet him. Your request for mercy has been granted," said Lady Justice.

"Please—me too!" shouted another guard as he ran to the front of the room.

"Yes, and me!" cried the guard who had begun—but never finished—untying Artemerio's ropes.

Soon, all of the guards were at the front of the room, pleading with Lady Justice for freedom from Dunley and for mercy. Lady Justice met with all of them, speaking words I could not hear. Then she looked around the court, her gaze lingering long on Artemerio, and she left through a door directly behind her.

Dunley, his face twisted in a cruel frown, watched a court official lead all of the guards out through a side door. In a rage, Dunley stormed out of the court.

***

We were not sure if we were supposed to stay in Norin or if we had seen or done what we were supposed to see or do already. Artemerio, back to himself, thought it would be best for us to leave as soon as possible—so we could finish the quest and depart for the Unconquered Lands. I had a feeling, though, that our business in Norin was not finished. Artemerio was finally persuaded to stay when I reminded him we no longer had cloaks or proper boots for traveling.

"I suppose we must stay at least one night while we find a way to replace what we have lost," said Artemerio, grumbling. "I do hope the king intends to repay us for what we must now purchase. But the time—the time cannot be repaid."

As we dined at our inn that night, a cheerful, dark-haired young girl in a bright blue dress came to our table and handed me a note that said the following:

Dear Admirable Sirs, Artemerio and Barto,

Please accept this humble invitation to dine with me tomorrow for breakfast. Your response may be entrusted to the deliverer of this invitation.

Sincerely,

Lady Justice

I handed the note to Artemerio, who quickly read the words and then said to the girl, "Please tell Lady Justice that we humbly and gratefully accept."

"Yes, sir." The young girl handed me a note describing the place and time we were to meet Lady Justice. Then she curtsied and left us.

"It seems we have caught the attention of the honorable Lady Justice." Artemerio raised his cup. "I will repeat the toast I made just before we left on our journey: To our destinies!"

***

We met with Lady Justice the next morning in a private room in her court.

"Good sirs, thank you for accepting my invitation," Lady Justice said as she greeted us.

"The pleasure is ours." Artemerio bowed gallantly. He looked as if he were just about to begin one of his lengthy speeches—this time eloquently and endlessly praising the virtues of Lady Justice, no doubt.

I did not give him the chance. "Yes, Lady Justice, we are honored." I bowed. "I must admit, though, that we are very curious about why you would seek out our company."

Lady Justice ushered us to seats prepared at her table and then, with a nod of her head, dismissed the servants who had carried in our trays of food.

"As you know, this quest you are on is a quest of great importance," she said when we were alone.

"You know about our quest?" said Artemerio.

"Yes...the riddle, the map, the promise of a ship—I know all. I am the reason you were to visit Norin. And now I will give you what you need, tell you what you need to know, and send you on your way—quickly, because the longer you wait, the more time Dunley will have to lay his next trap for you." Lady Justice picked up a plate of strawberries.

"Good Lady, please tell us what we need to know, then," said Artemerio. "What counsel can you give us?"

"I offer you truth. Please—eat." She held the plate toward us.

I took a strawberry and began to eat—meaning only to nibble politely. But before I knew it, I had eaten nearly the entire plateful of the fruit, which did not taste like strawberries at all.

"Please pardon me," I said, offering Lady Justice an embarrassed smile.

"Eat as much as you like. And I will send more with you for your journey." Lady Justice took up another plate of the fruit and handed it to me.

In that moment I recognized the fruit's delightful taste: truth. No amount seemed enough for me.

"Truth," said Lady Justice a moment later. "You must cling to it—seek it out—choose it again and again for the rest of your journey. Your quest will only grow more dangerous the nearer you draw to the end. Dunley would do anything to keep you from finishing. Do not underestimate him or his hatred of you. But as your danger grows, be encouraged. If you were not close to finishing, if you were not such a threat, Dunley would not waste his time on you."

"Lady Justice," I said, "I must confess to you that we seem to be no closer now to solving the riddle than we were when we left. And we are halfway through our journey! Can you tell us anything that will help us solve the riddle?"

"I could tell you many things—even the answer. But the task you have been given is to solve the riddle for yourself. The truth of the answer must weigh on you so heavily that it becomes part of you—so heavily that, after you solve the riddle, a desire to obtain what the riddle describes takes hold of you and your quest becomes a pursuit within a pursuit. If all you gain is the answer to the riddle, your quest will have failed." She rang a small bell, and servants appeared. "Do not fear, Barto. You are on the right path. Now, good sirs, you must leave. Your next destination awaits." Lady Justice stood and nodded respectfully toward each of us. "Farewell."

***

"Where are we going now, Barto?" said Artemerio as we walked down the road away from Norin.

I stared at the jester's map as I walked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. "I think the next city we are to visit is called Crevton."

"You think?" said Artemerio. "You mean you are not certain?"

"I _was_ certain. Last night. But now—now Crevton is not on the jester's map at all."

"I recall the name. If you cannot find it, let me have a look." He held out his hand.

"No, I do not mean I cannot find it. If it were on the map somewhere, I could find it. I mean it was on the jester's map last night, but it is not there now at all." I handed him the map.

# Chapter 7: The Giant

Artemerio stopped walking and carefully studied the map. "But that is impossible." He pointed. "It was right there. Or...or very near there."

"I remember thinking that we should walk along the edge of the river for as long as we could—at least a day—before cutting across to Crevton." I traced the course with my finger. "If we follow that route, we should reach the place where the city should be."

"Do you think we should continue on? Perhaps we should skip that city. It would save us some time."

"The jester was very insistent that we visit the cities in a certain order."

"Yes, well—consider what has happened to us so far in following the jester's instructions. We very nearly did not escape from Folpin. And the jester said nothing of Dunley."

"What happened in Folpin was not the jester's fault," I said. "And Dunley—"

Artemerio's exasperated sigh interrupted me. "Very well. To Crevton." He started walking again. "But...how can a city simply disappear from a map? Do you think this one might be a counterfeit? Do you think someone might have stolen the map? But when would anyone have had time? Oh! Might Dunley have put a different map in your bag? While we were at the castle? Before I hid it in my boot?"

"It appears to be the same map we have had since the beginning—complete with the same small stains and tears. I cannot explain why Crevton is not on there, but I feel certain it is the jester's map."

"Well, then, I suppose we must take the risk that traveling for a day or two to reach a city that is no longer on a map is not a complete waste of time."

He continued on with his grumbling and complaining, lamenting again and again that a wasted trip to Crevton would unpardonably delay our leaving for the Unconquered Lands. But the topic of the Unconquered Lands was one that would not allow him to be sullen and unpleasant for long. A short time later, he was happily prattling on about his plans for the riches that lay not six months south of Blackdragon Point.

***

As we sat around the fire Artemerio had built that night, we ate some of the fruit Lady Justice had given us and the meal we had caught for ourselves.

"We will need to cut across to Crevton some time tomorrow, but I am not sure exactly where." I pulled out the map and leaned closer to the fire. "What— How—" I stared at the map for a moment, not believing my eyes. "Crevton has reappeared! Have a look!"

Artemerio took the map from me and examined it. "Strange. Very strange." He looked up. "If I had not seen for myself that it was not there earlier, I would never have believed you. What kind of adventures are waiting for us in a city that disappears from a map, I wonder."

I saw easily the course we needed to take. "We should turn away from the river here." I pointed at a bend in the river. "And we should aim for the mountains over there. What do you think—Crevton is maybe another day's journey?"

"It appears so. But that canyon that Crevton seems to be in the middle of also disappeared and reappeared. If the land is unvaried—if there is no canyon—if our trek takes us over only a vast, unbroken plain—we may expect to arrive much sooner." He folded the map. "Also...it appears we will be out in the open with no place to hide for quite some distance."

He did not have to say Dunley's name; the concern on his face told me Dunley must have been as much in his thoughts as he was in mine.

***

The next morning, Crevton and the canyon had again disappeared, but I had marked the spot with a drip of candle wax in anticipation of the disappearance. Artemerio and I traveled the course I had plotted the night before, following the river for most of the day before setting out toward the plain.

An hour or two of walking took us far from the pleasant rolling hills that surrounded the river. Most of what we saw, as we traveled on, was wide-open country. Thin grass covered the ground. Solitary trees grew here and there. And emptiness stretched away from us in every direction but the one we had left behind.

Another hour or two on, I began to notice something strange about the trees scattered along our course: they had the same leaves and bark and branches and seemed in every way to be the same types of trees we had been seeing all along, but the farther we traveled, the shorter they were.

"What is happening to the trees?" I said. "Are they shrinking?"

Artemerio looked around. "How odd. Now that you mention it, I think I could very nearly touch the top of that one. It looks almost as if...no."

"What?"

"It looks almost as if the ground might be slowly swallowing the trees."

"Or as if the trees are sinking into the ground—but yes. Whatever the case may be, swallowing or sinking, I am glad we will not be sleeping on the ground tonight."

We walked what we estimated to be the remainder of the distance to Crevton, but by dusk, we could see no sign of any city. We could see for miles and miles in every direction, but in those miles and miles, there were no buildings or any other signs of life.

"I suppose we will be sleeping on the ground tonight," I said. "Perhaps we should take turns."

The trees near us looked like bushes; only their tops remained above ground.

"I agree," said Artemerio, eyeing the leafy mounds. "I will let you sleep—"

The ground began to shake violently, knocking Artemerio and me off our feet. I struggled to stand at first, but after watching Artemerio repeatedly topple over after his momentary successes, I gave up. And then the shaking stopped, and all was still.

Though the sun had set just moments before, the exceptional brightness of the stars allowed me to see that a great canyon had opened up. Artemerio and I cautiously crept to the edge and peered down.

"Are those the lights of a city?" said Artemerio.

"Yes." In the canyon below us, a large city stretched for miles. "I think we have found Crevton."

***

We walked around the edge of the canyon until we found a place where the land sloped gradually downward. Our feet stirred up clouds of dust as we half-walked and half-slid down the incline.

"I hope we will have no trouble finding a place to stay tonight, as late as it is," said Artemerio. "I wish it had not taken us so long to find a way down."

When we had stood above the city at the canyon's edge, we had assumed the inhabitants of Crevton would be settling into their homes for the night. But when we reached the city, we discovered it was bustling with activity. The shops were all crowded, and a school full of children seemed to be in session.

"It is the dead of night. What could this mean?" I said.

"A place to sleep may be harder to come by than I feared," said Artemerio.

We stopped at the first inn we came to and inquired about a room.

"Hello, good innkeeper!" Artemerio said.

A gray-haired innkeeper, who was polishing a silver candlestick at one of the many dining tables in his front room, looked up.

"Do you have any rooms available?" said Artemerio. "My brother and I have just arrived in Crevton, and we are hoping now to have a quiet dinner at one of your tables and then to fall asleep on your most comfortable beds."

The innkeeper looked confused and stopped polishing the candlestick. "I am sorry, sir, but you are just in time for a late lunch. You are welcome to one of my tables for your meal. As for beds, they will not be ready until later this afternoon. The maid is preparing them now." The innkeeper resumed polishing the candlestick. "But most out-of-town visitors prefer not to stay the night in Crevton."

My stomach growled, and I was beginning to feel drowsy from the long day of traveling. "Sir, lunch sounds excellent," I said. "Perhaps we could sit at this table with you as we eat? Would you be willing to tell us why we may not want to stay the night?"

The innkeeper stopped polishing again, snapped his fingers, and sent a servant scurrying to the kitchen for our food.

"Pull up some chairs, boys, and listen to my tale." The innkeeper put aside the first candlestick and picked up another to polish. "Many, many years ago, farther back than any of our other tales go—farther back than our grandparents' grandparents' grandparents or any of their kin remember—Crevton was a surface city, much like the places I am guessing you come from. Where _do_ you come from? Are you mountainfolk or seafolk?"

"Seafolk," I said.

"Ah, yes. We have very old books here about the sea. Sounds like quite a sight. Always been a dream of mine to see it." A wistful look came into the innkeeper's eyes.

Artemerio cleared his throat. "So Crevton was a surface city?"

"Yes, yes," said the innkeeper. "Thank you, my boy. Crevton was a surface city—renowned for its beauty and learning. Oh, the lofty towers I could describe! The books beyond counting! Such a glorious time for Crevton and the glorious people who lived here. Glorious! That is why the evil giant became jealous of us—oh, I mean of them. We feel so connected to those glorious ancestors, I cannot help but speak as if we were one and the same. Family pride means quite a lot to us. Do you boys have any family? Oh, you are brothers! Now I remember. But any other family?"

"Yes, we come from a family of fishermen," I said.

Artemerio cleared his throat again. "So an evil giant became jealous?"

"Yes, yes," said the innkeeper. "Thank you again, my boy. The giant became very jealous of—of the people of Crevton. So one day, he raised his giant boot over the city and smashed it down, down into the dirt. He formed this canyon. And every night he stands over the city, blocking out all light. That is why out-of-town visitors usually choose not to stay. The giant's quarrel is not with them, so they can leave. And the shaking—oh, the shaking!—as he comes and goes."

"By _night_ you mean what was formerly a normal day, do you not?" I said, thoroughly confused. "You mean the giant blocks out the sun? That is why the people of Crevton are awake and busy now—while they have the light of the stars to see by?"

The innkeeper stopped polishing and laughed. "Quite an imagination you have, my boy! A day having anything more than stars to see by? What a tale that would make! No, this is daytime. And how can people handle any more light than the light of the stars? They would be burned alive! Sunlight is neither healthy nor natural. That is why we Crevtonians gave it up long ago."

"But this is darkness!" said Artemerio.

The innkeeper chuckled as he started polishing another candlestick. "I see imagination runs in the family. Darkness! This is the full light of day." He rubbed the base of the candlestick for a moment, chuckling again. But our silence seemed to confuse him. He stared at us curiously. "Oh, forgive me. Perhaps seafolk are not as enlightened as I thought regarding the uselessness and the dangers of the sun. Well, I will not hold that against you." He leaned toward us and said quietly, "But just so you know, other Crevtonians might." He leaned away and returned to polishing. "Ah, here are your meals."

The servant the innkeeper had sent for our food moved surprisingly nimbly and quickly as he served. His mannerisms seemed so familiar to me that I could not help but stare at him, but his unruly red hair and large nose were too distinctive for me not to have recognized him instantly if I had ever seen him before.

The innkeeper interrupted my contemplation of the servant's distinctive features. "If you will excuse me, sirs, I need to get on with the business of the day. I have enjoyed your company and your clever comments. If you choose to stay for the night, do come back—although, truthfully, I would not advise staying. It can be quite unpleasant for those who are not accustomed to the experience."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"Call me Roin." The innkeeper nodded his head toward us politely and walked away carrying his many candlesticks.

Having finished setting out our meal for us, the wild-haired servant brushed away a nonexistent speck from his sleeve, adjusted his unruly mane, and left us, as well.

"What a strange story," I said as soon as Artemerio and I were alone.

"I agree. A giant? Jealous of the people in a city he could crush under his shoe? Hardly worth his time, I would think. But why am I talking as if the giant is real? There is no giant. We have seen for ourselves what happens. The ground opens up at night—entirely on its own—which, by the way, explains the strange disappearances and reappearances of the city on the map—although the mapmaker's method for achieving such accuracy is entirely mysterious to me."

"Yes—of course—the city disappears by day. I had almost forgotten. We will not be able to sleep here and escape before the canyon closes. We should leave and take our chances sleeping on the shifting ground above. We can return to Crevton tomorrow evening."

"Yes." Artemerio looked toward a window. "Morning cannot be far off. We should eat quickly. The journey out of the canyon will be quite a climb."

Roin returned to see if we needed anything more. We arranged to take some food with us, and then we said our goodbyes to the innkeeper.

"Ah, then I have scared you away with tales of the giant, I suppose?" said Roin.

"No," said Artemerio. "I can assure you that there is no giant."

The innkeeper chuckled but gave Artemerio a rather odd look. "Quite an imagination you have. But...it is odd that you should say such a thing. I had a dream only a few nights ago of a great and powerful king. He told me someone was coming to take me out from under the shadow of the giant. Crevtonians do not generally put much stock in dreams and things like that. I only mention it because...because for half a moment I almost believed you." A wistful look came into his eyes. "I would like very much to be free from the giant. And I have always wanted to see the sea."

Artemerio shook the innkeeper's hand. "It has been a pleasure to meet a fellow lover of the sea. I cannot tell you what the meaning of your dream might be, but I can assure you again, sir—there is no giant."

Roin chuckled. "Quite the imagination. Quite." He escorted us to the door and then excused himself to attend to a servant's call.

As Artemerio reached for the door of the inn, a woman in a hooded cape opened it from the other side.

"Pardon us," said Artemerio.

We stood to one side to let the woman enter. As she passed us, she nodded politely. The hood of her cape, which had entirely hidden her face at first, slipped slightly backward, and I caught a brief glimpse of her eyes.

I paused in the doorway and watched her as she crossed the floor of the main room.

"Come along, Barto. We must be going," said Artemerio.

"Did the woman not seem familiar to you?" I said softly as we hurried away.

"Not at all."

"Well, did the servant? The one with the wild red hair?"

"No. And I am sure I would recall that extraordinary nose. They seemed familiar to you? Perhaps it is the strangeness of this city playing tricks with your mind. Or perhaps you simply need a good night's sleep."

"Perhaps," I said. But I could not forget the woman's eyes, and I could not shake the feeling that I had seen her somewhere before.

***

As Artemerio and I neared the top of the canyon, I cried out, "Of course! Artemerio—we must go back!"

"You cannot be serious." Artemerio, perched with his hands clinging to rocks above his head and with his feet balanced precariously on a boulder, glanced at me and nearly lost his footing.

"But the woman—the woman we passed as we were leaving the inn—she was the woman we saw when I recited the riddle in Lagal!"

Artemerio sighed.

# Chapter 8: Crevtonians

We were so near to the top of the canyon and so far from the inn that we knew we could not return to find the woman and still escape from Crevton before the ground closed over the city again. In fact, after only a brief discussion about whether to turn back or to keep going, Artemerio and I barely scrambled back up the side of the canyon in time to escape.

As we reached the top, the ground began to shake and move. Dawn had not yet broken, but by the remaining light of the stars, I could see nothing resembling a giant. All by itself, the earth closed up again, and no sign of the canyon remained.

"No," said Artemerio as he stood and brushed off his knees, "no giant. But...quiet, Barto."

"I did not say—"

"Shhhhhh..." Artemerio was silent for a moment. "Do you hear that? What is it? Where is it coming from?"

I heard the sound. It was the same sound I had heard the morning I came out of the cave and found Wit with his arms raised.

"The stars," I said.

"Be serious. We may very well be surrounded. What if Dunley—"

"I am serious. The stars are singing—for joy—for the Great King. Wit told me. Do you not remember hearing the sound when we were at the cave?"

Artemerio started walking. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, and I— _ooph_!" He had stumbled over a stone monument and fallen forward to his hands and knees. "Where did that come from? Never mind. I am too tired to care." He rubbed the knee that had caught most of his weight and then stood.

We wandered well away from where the edge of the canyon had been and found a clump of trees to sleep under. To be safe, we decided to take turns sleeping and standing guard.

"Singing stars and jealous giants and cities that disappear—perhaps I am asleep already," said Artemerio as he propped his head against a rock and closed his eyes.

***

Standing guard while Artemerio slept was difficult. The trees we were under, like the others we had seen, had partially sunk into the ground. Remaining in their shade required sitting. But sitting too easily led to sleeping. More than once I found myself jarred awake by the motion of my head falling forward. I decided to brave the heat of the sun.

A quick walk revived me. And then I recalled the monument Artemerio had stumbled over. I returned to the spot to have a look.

The monument was larger than I remembered it being, and it was entirely covered with words:

TRAVELERS BEWARE!

Crevton of old was a mighty city, great in knowledge, beauty, and skill. Kings from lands far away sent their princes and scholars to the university in Crevton, for the city's reputation as a center of learning was unsurpassed. In time, however, the pride of the people of Crevton grew exceedingly great, and in their quest to feed and fuel their pride, the Crevtonians abandoned truth and sound judgment—anything that revealed their errors or shortcomings. They began to shape all knowledge and standards to preserve their pride. Eventually, they came to believe that to be a Crevtonian was to be the measure of all—of knowledge, of goodness, of beauty, of truth—of all. They worshiped themselves.

In worshiping themselves, the Crevtonians reduced the size of their universe to the smallness they could imagine or understand. During this time, their own folly convinced them that day was night and night was day. In this way and in many, many others, the Crevtonians began to destroy themselves. As mighty as Crevton had been before, to that degree it became pitiful, horrific, and absurd. Its decline would have continued until it was completely destroyed if the Great King had not intervened.

In mercy, the Great King sends Lady Wisdom to each generation of Crevtonians to offer the people of Crevton truth and reason again. But he allowed the land—land that had suffered much under masters who abandoned truth and wisdom—to swallow its people. Fear not for the people of Crevton! They go on from generation to generation. By day they peacefully sleep, encased in an underground city. By night they live under an open, star-filled sky. Perhaps someday the people of Crevton will listen to the songs of the stars, realize their own smallness, and turn from their self-worship.

Traveler, be warned of the dangers of pride, and know that you will find no rest in Crevton.

My mind raced as I considered the innkeeper's story in light of the monument. I thought over both stories again and again as I walked back to where Artemerio lay sleeping. I meant to think on them much longer, but the warmth of the day and my weariness soon turned my wondering to daydreaming and my daydreaming to sleeping.

***

"Some watchman you are," said Artemerio as I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "We could have been eaten by trees!" He was cooking something over a small fire.

The sun was still out, but it seemed to be near setting. I had slept so deeply that, for a few moments, I struggled to piece together where I was and why I was supposed to be a watchman. When it all came back to me, I was instantly fully awake.

"You have it all wrong. The trees are not eating anything. They are the ones who have been swallowed by the ground. But that does not matter. The monument! Have you read the story on the monument—where you fell?"

"No. I woke only a short time ago, myself. Why? What does it say?"

I told him the story of Crevton, according to the monument, and then said, "Perhaps the innkeeper's dream meant something, after all. Perhaps we can reason with him—and tell him about the monument—and convince him to leave with us."

"But he did not believe me before when I told him there was no giant. And you said that the monument said that the people had lost reason."

"But we still have some of the fruit Lady Justice gave us—truth. And Lady Wisdom is there."

Artemerio looked away from me. "About Lady Justice's fruit..."

"You ate it all."

"Yes—but not much remained. And I suddenly had a taste for it. And here." He held a large stick with some kind of cooked meat on it toward me. "I made you some dinner. Or breakfast. I do not know which anymore. But, anyway, as you said—Lady Wisdom is there. And she was at the inn. Perhaps Roin has already met her."

I took the food he offered. "You ate all of the fruit? All of it? None remains?"

"None."

I resigned myself to the meal before me and sat down on a rock to wait for the canyon to open.

***

When the sun had finally gone down and the canyon had opened again, Artemerio and I climbed back down into Crevton and quickly made our way to the inn. Our only plan was to find Roin, to try to convince him to leave with us, and to hope that he or someone at the inn knew where we could find the woman.

"Good innkeeper," Artemerio said as we walked through the doors.

But the man who looked up from his work at the table, though gray-haired, was not the same man we had seen the night before. "Something I can do for you?" the gray-haired man asked gruffly.

"Where is the man who was here last nigh—yesterday?" I said. "Roin was his name."

"Oh—him." The man looked back down at the complicated-looking mess of mechanical parts he seemed to be sorting or putting together. "Gone to see her. Need anything else?"

"Yes," I said. "Whom did he go to see?"

The man looked up from the mechanical parts again. He squinted his eyes and stared at us warily. "You are not from here, are you?" His tone was accusing. "Listen, I don't want any trouble. Are you with her? I will not have any of her tales or any tales of her told here. She is a rabble-rousing, evil-doing, nonsense-spouting troublemaker, and she makes the guests uncomfortable. So before I let you say anything else, I must know if you are with her."

"We are not with her," I said. "We want to find the innkeeper."

"I already told you. He went to see her," said the man. "Don't know when he will be back. But listen—if it is a room you want, I can help you the same as Roin. I work here, too. Name's Kello. And we have a special rate for out-of-town visitors. Staying the night in Crevton is quite an experience." The man laughed menacingly, as if he had told a dark joke at our expense and did not expect us to understand.

"We do not need a room," I said. "Thank you. Good eve—good day."

We turned and left.

"Now what?" said Artemerio as we stood outside the inn and looked up and down the road before us.

"This way?" I said, pointing.

"I suppose it is as good as any other way."

But we had taken only a few steps before I heard a loud hissing sound behind us.

"Pssssssssst!"

I turned. The wild red hair of the servant bobbed up and down as the servant nodded and waved us toward himself.

"Are you looking for _her_?" he whispered when we reached him.

"Perhaps. Who is she?" I said.

"You do not know?" The servant frowned slightly. "Then you are not looking for her. Who is it you are trying to find?"

"The innkeeper named Roin—the man we met when we were here last nigh—yesterday," whispered Artemerio. "And do you know anything about a woman in a hooded cape? Dark hair? Blue eyes? She was coming in just as we were going out."

"You _are_ looking for her!" The servant smiled. "I can take you to her, and you will find Roin shortly after. Follow me!" He lifted the hood of his cloak and covered his wild red hair. Not only his quick and nimble movements but also his merriment, subdued though it was, made the servant seem peculiarly familiar.

***

The servant led us to a large crowd of people. I could see a distant, indistinct figure—a woman—standing in the center of the crowd. She was speaking, but the agitated murmuring of the people around me muffled her words.

A man near me in a tall, brown hat said, "She came into town a few days ago. She spends her time standing out in our streets calling out to people—offering life and honor, talking about right and wrong...things like that. Complete nonsense!"

"Well," said a man in a gray coat, "I heard she tried to convince the old innkeeper that there is no giant. And she told someone else that our day is really night and that our night is really day. Ridiculous!"

"Oh, but it gets worse!" said a woman wearing an elaborate gown. "I heard her say that we should look to the sky, see how small we are compared to the stars, and give up the foolish idea that we are the measure of all. Can you imagine? All I have to do is hold up my hand—no, no—my smallest finger—and I can cover several stars at once. Small, indeed!" She laughed.

"Well," said the man in the hat, "someone like her came along when my parents were our age. She spoke the same sort of nonsense. You have heard what happened to her, have you not?"

I moved a little closer to be sure I heard the answer.

"Yes," said the man in the coat. "The people of Crevton put up with her nonsense for only so long before they ran her out of town. This time will be no different."

The man in the hat nodded approvingly.

"Absolutely. We will not stand for her absurdities," said the woman. "We will soon put an end to her nonsense. We will show her what is right and what is wrong!" She glowered toward the speaker, and the men laughed the same sort of menacing laugh Kello had laughed.

I turned to the servant and whispered, "Who is that person at the center of the crowd? Who is speaking?"

"Lady Wisdom," said the servant. "And now I must go, and you must go to her."

"Go to her?" I said. "But I—"

"Yes, go to her. Seek her out. Pursue her, if necessary. Do not let her out of your sight until you have spoken to her. But do not let Dunley see you. And now—farewell." The servant slipped off quickly into the crowd and was soon lost from my view.

I glanced at Artemerio.

He shrugged. "Forward, then, I suppose."

I started moving toward the front, angling myself around groups and between individuals. Some were shouting out objections to Lady Wisdom's words. Others were angrily discussing her words with those around them. Very few listened to Lady Wisdom in silence.

Only after I had pushed my way to the front of the crowd was I close enough to see the face of the speaker by the light of the lamps surrounding her.

But there she was—the beautiful woman with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. Her arms were outstretched. She beckoned to us all as she spoke.

# Chapter 9: Up and Out

"Come to me," Lady Wisdom called out, "and I will teach you ancient truths your people have forgotten. I will tell you how to live and show you the way to escape this life of darkness. All you must do is—"

"Thank you, Lady Wisdom," said a voice from somewhere close by, a voice that caused fear to rise up in my heart. Dunley drew near to Lady Wisdom and nodded to two men in the crowd.

The men approached Lady Wisdom, and each grabbed one of her arms. She did not struggle.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Crevton," said Dunley.

The crowd cheered wildly.

"Now then. Now then. Quiet, please," said Dunley.

The crowd respectfully obeyed.

Dunley continued. "You have endured the winding words and nonsensical speeches of this woman long enough. Today, I promise you, I will see to it that she troubles you no more."

The crowd cheered again.

Dunley held up both hands to quiet the people. "Any final words, Lady Wisdom?" A cruel, proud smile spread across Dunley's face.

"Yes," said Lady Wisdom calmly. "People of Crevton, listen for the singing of the stars. The sound will lead you up and out to freedom."

"Enough!" said Dunley. "Take her away!"

"How dare he," said Artemerio under his breath. He took a step forward as if he intended to challenge Dunley.

"Dunley must not see us," I whispered forcefully.

Artemerio stopped. But the smoldering rage in his eyes suggested he could not be expected to remain still for long.

The crowd had parted to allow the men leading Lady Wisdom away to pass through, but after they had passed, the crowd began to fill in the space again.

"Come. Before we lose sight of them," Artemerio said.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as I promised, she will trouble you no more," said Dunley. "Go about your business. Enjoy your day."

The crowd began to disperse noisily. Some people still shouted; everyone else seemed to be conversing with fellow Crevtonians about what had taken place.

Artemerio and I pushed our way through the mass of people and continued on in the direction the men had taken Lady Wisdom.

***

Following after Lady Wisdom took us well out of sight of the crowd and away from most buildings, so to avoid being seen, Artemerio and I had to creep between barrels, boulders, trees, and any other objects large enough to hide us.

The men escorted Lady Wisdom all the way to the edge of Crevton. There they stopped. I feared what might happen next. The men looked all around, staring for a long time at the places where Artemerio and I were hidden. Then, quickly, they bowed to Lady Wisdom and snuck away.

"Artemerio and Barto," said Lady Wisdom quietly, almost whispering, "you may come out."

I moved out from behind the tree where I had been hiding. Artemerio, who had been hiding behind a large rock, stood up. Lady Wisdom motioned for us to come closer but held a finger to her lips to warn us to be quiet.

When we reached her, Artemerio said softly, "How do you know our names? And, good Lady, I am confused. We followed you to save you, but it seems you did not need our help. Dunley seemed ready to kill you, but his men let you go. You are not—please tell me—you are not a friend of Dunley, are you?"

"I am no friend of Dunley. The men were not his. I sent them to Crevton ahead of my visit to prepare for any attacks Dunley might plan. Dunley only thought they were his allies. But we have no time for this sort of discussion. The people will be arriving here soon."

"What people?" I said.

"The people who want to leave Crevton," said Lady Wisdom. "And now I must ask for your help—if you are willing to give it."

I feared Artemerio might refuse, but to my surprise, he answered before I could.

"Of course, Lady Wisdom. We are at your service." He bowed.

"Wonderful," said Lady Wisdom. "Then here is the plan. I will lead the people, including you, up and out of Crevton, and then the two of you will lead them to Lagal. You have the jester's map still, do you not?"

I nodded.

"Very good," said Lady Wisdom. "Once you reach Lagal, you are to continue your journey. Take the people to Lagal by the shortest, straightest course, and then follow the path laid out for you by the jester, no matter what happens. Do you have any questions?"

As Lady Wisdom spoke, I became aware of a delightful fragrance wafting over me. It was wisdom, like I had experienced in the presence of the king and queen, but it was much, much stronger. I was overcome by a feeling of humility as I suddenly realized how little I knew about anything. There was no sense of shame in the realization, however; it was more like realizing I was hungry just as I arrived at a feast. Burning questions filled my mind. But then a single question rose up above all others.

"Lady Wisdom, if I may ask—who is the Great King? I know this question has nothing to do with the quest or with leading the people to Lagal, but it suddenly seems terribly important that I know," I said.

Lady Wisdom smiled. "Barto, your question has everything to do with the quest and with leading the people to Lagal. It is the most important question you could have asked. Who is the Great King? You felt his joy as the stars sang over you. You heard his voice at the waters of Lagal. You experienced his goodness in Folpin. You saw his mercy in Norin—where you also tasted his truth. But you encountered him before any of that took place. The Great King is the one who spoke to you in a dream and who caused the king to summon you and to send you on this quest. He is the one who whispered to you in the palace. And he is the one you will be leading the people of Crevton to meet."

"I hear footsteps," whispered Artemerio.

The crunching sound of footsteps on dried leaves drew closer. Artemerio, Lady Wisdom, and I hid behind a tree until we could see who was approaching.

"Hello! Anyone here?" a familiar voice whispered loudly.

Lady Wisdom stepped out from behind the tree. "Welcome, Roin."

Artemerio and I joined her.

"Who do we have here?" Roin said with a bright smile. "Are you boys coming with us?"

"We are. And you shall see for yourself that there is no giant." Artemerio shook the hand Roin extended to him.

"I certainly hope you are right. Well...what do we do now?" said Roin.

"We wait for the others," said Lady Wisdom.

***

Throughout the night, more and more Crevtonians gathered with us, including the wild-haired servant. At last, with morning quickly approaching, Lady Wisdom said it was time to begin the climb out.

"No matter what happens," she said as she prepared us for the climb, "do not slow down, and do not turn back. Dunley has not given up yet—you can be sure of that. But you will all escape if you keep going."

About a hundred Crevtonians were to go with us. Near us was a dirt road that zigzagged up to the top of the canyon. It was similar to the path Artemerio and I had found to climb down into Crevton, but it was a bit wider and sloped more gradually. Artemerio and Lady Wisdom took the lead, and I stayed at the back to help those who might struggle with the climb and to call down to any who might come straggling along to join us. The wild-haired servant, whose name I learned was Jes, volunteered to stay at the back with me.

The night air was cool and pleasant. We walked as quietly as we could up the narrow dirt road. In places, two could walk side by side, but most of the path was too narrow to allow it. With every step, the singing of the stars seemed to grow louder.

By the time I was halfway up, the singing of the stars was quite clear, but there was a new sound, as well. Jes had started singing with the stars, and many of the people in front of him were humming along. I could not help but join them. The music seemed to work its way into my thoughts and my heart, calling me up and out. It was all I could think of as I took step after step up the long road.

Before long, I noticed another sound. Someone was shouting. I expected it to be a straggler wishing to join us in leaving Crevton, but when I looked over the edge of the road, I saw a small group of men standing down below. One of them was shaking a fist at us. I assumed he was the shouter.

"Come back down here and face me, Artemerio! If you keep going, we will attack all of the people with you. But if you come back, the others can go in peace!" shouted the man. The voice was unmistakable. The shouter was Dunley.

I returned my attention to the path ahead. "Keep going!" I shouted when a few Crevtonians slowed to peer down toward Dunley, who continued to shout his threats.

The admonishment worked; the Crevtonians pressed on.

But then Artemerio stopped and stared down into the canyon.

"Keep going," I shouted again.

Artemerio started making his way down.

Lady Wisdom turned and called out something to Artemerio, but Artemerio continued walking down the path, forcing the people behind him to slow down or flatten themselves against the canyon wall so he could pass. As he passed Jes, Artemerio tripped and fell to his knees.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" Jes offered his hand to help Artemerio up.

Artemerio waved away his help and motioned for Jes to keep climbing.

"What are you doing?" I said to Artemerio as he stood up. "Do not pay attention to Dunley. We must get out of the canyon. We must lead the people to Lagal."

"Dunley must be dealt with," said Artemerio.

"And how do you know that you are the person to deal with him? Because he says so? He is a liar! And you are being prideful and foolish. This must be a trap. Lady Wisdom said to keep going and not turn back. She tried to stop you just now, did she not? And you are choosing to listen to Dunley over her?"

Artemerio's face softened a bit, and he glanced up toward Lady Wisdom. "She did try to stop me, and I pretended not to hear. But you do not understand, I—"

Dunley shouted, "It is over! It is too late! No one will make it out alive!"

Artemerio stared down at Dunley. "Move out of my way, Barto. I am going down." He took a step forward.

A loud boom echoed across the canyon, and the ground began to shake.

"What is happening? Morning has not yet arrived—why is the ground shaking?" said Artemerio.

"It was some kind of explosion," I said. "Artemerio—we must get out!"

Another loud boom echoed across the canyon, followed by a rumbling sound. A violent shaking knocked Artemerio to his knees, and the road below us slowly began to crumble.

I helped Artemerio back to his feet, and then we began climbing out again.

Many of the people ahead of us had already made it out of the canyon. To those still climbing, I shouted, "Run! Get out!"

The rumbling sound behind us grew louder and louder as Artemerio and I ran up the trail.

# Chapter 10: Sunlight

The road behind us crumbled and dropped away. My heart pounded. Every now and then, over the rumble of the road collapsing, I could hear Artemerio's feet striking the ground behind me.

"The road is almost gone!" Artemerio shouted.

At last I reached the end of the path. I ran several steps beyond the edge of the canyon before I stopped. Artemerio was not far behind me. Both of us stood panting for a few moments, listening to the rumbling down below. When the rumbling finally stopped, I walked to the edge and looked down. Nothing remained of the road. The ground began to shake again, and the canyon closed up.

"If it had taken us even one moment longer to get out, we would not have survived," Artemerio said quietly. "I—I am sorry, Barto. You were right. It was a trap. I am so sorry."

Artemerio's remorseful tone surprised me, as did the earnest contrition expressed in his apology.

"We escaped," I said. "There is no need to speak of it again."

"But we very nearly— And if you had not tried to stop me— And if I had not tripped—" Artemerio shook his head. "No. I cannot help but speak of it. You spoke the truth when you said I was being prideful and foolish. When I think what almost happened—when I think you might have been killed because of me, I—" He paused, clearly shaken by the thought of our narrow escape. "All I can say is that I am sorry. I cannot say those words enough."

"Do you not remember what King Syroton said when we stood before him all those days ago? 'A thousand apologies are not necessary if one apology is sincere.' I have never seen you so sincere. Nothing more is needed. What there was to forgive is forgiven."

"Thank you, Barto. I cannot so easily forgive myself." Artemerio's gaze rested on Lady Wisdom, who was standing with a small group of Crevtonians some distance away. "Now I must apologize to another I have wronged. If you will excuse me..."

I nodded and turned toward where a number of the Crevtonians stood huddled together.

"Is something the matter?" I called out as I walked toward them.

Roin stepped out of the huddle, took me aside, and said, "Barto, we were just wondering...that is to say, the thought crossed our minds that maybe—well, is there really no giant? We thought he might have caused all the rumbling and booming. And about the sun—some of us are afraid...that is, some of us have wondered—well, is there something we should do to protect ourselves from it? Will it burn us up if we are not careful?"

I noticed then that the singing of the stars had grown very faint and that the sun had begun to rise, and I understood the Crevtonians' apprehension.

"Roin, there really is no giant," I said. "Dunley caused the explosions from the bottom of the canyon to destroy the road. That is what all the noise and shaking was. And the canyon closed up on its own, as it does every morning. And the sun will not burn you up. You may enjoy the beauty of this sunrise with no fear."

"Oh, it takes my breath away, it does." Roin glanced in the direction of the sun. He looked down quickly, however. "But how it burns my eyes! I can hardly stand the light. Does it get much brighter than this?" He continued to look down, and he put a hand up to shield his eyes.

"It does," I said, realizing with much concern that the Crevtonians' eyes, accustomed to no more light than candles, torches, or small fires could produce, had grown too sensitive for the light of the sun.

As the sun continued to rise, the Crevtonians all began to shield their eyes from the light.

"Blindfolds," said Lady Wisdom as she drew near to us. "The people will have to wear blindfolds during the day."

"Now I understand why they need us to lead them," I said. "Our two pairs of eyes will have to be enough for them all."

"Three," said Roin. "Jes is not Crevtonian. In fact, he spoke quite knowledgeably about the sea. I often thought his wild hair looked like the hair of a man who had spent a very long time fighting winds and waves. Perhaps he is of seafolk, too."

"You are certain he is not Crevtonian?" I said.

"Quite certain," said Roin.

"Roin, will you speak to the people about putting on blindfolds?" said Lady Wisdom. "Explain to them that Barto and Artemerio need the sunlight to be able to lead them—that they must travel during the day. The people must now leave behind the ways they followed when they lived in darkness and learn to walk in light."

"I will tell them," said Roin. "But, Lady Wisdom, you told us the one thing we could not bring with us was our pride, and I think even if we had tried, it would now be impossible to carry. We are helpless. We need your guidance—desperately—and we know it. We will do as you think best." Without uncovering his eyes, he stretched his other arm in front of him and walked carefully back toward the crowd.

"I must leave you now," said Lady Wisdom. "I have more to do in Crevton."

"But the canyon is all sealed up," said Artemerio. "And you will be in extreme danger there. Surely you, as Lady Wisdom, must be protected above all." As he stared at Lady Wisdom, he had a look of admiration on his face—a look I had never seen on him before.

"I know another way into Crevton," said Lady Wisdom. "And Lady Wisdom is my title, not who I am. If I fall, another will take my place. But I must go now. Remember to follow the path laid out for you by the jester—no matter what." She curtsied and left us.

"We should find Jes," I said.

"Yes—Jes," said Artemerio. But he stared after Lady Wisdom without moving.

"There he is." I waved Jes over to us and then explained to him the help we would need.

***

The Crevtonians found coverings for their eyes—they tore bits of cloth from their cloaks or found scraps of fabric in the bags or satchels they had brought with them. Then we set off for Lagal.

Artemerio and I walked side by side, but the others walked in a straight line, both hands on the shoulders of the person in front of them. Jes stayed at the end of the line to ensure no one fell behind.

The flatness of the ground and the sparseness of the trees made travel relatively easy, starting out. But every rock, tree branch, or patch of uneven ground slowed us down.

During one of the times when we were almost at a standstill, I pulled out the map and began to study it. "I have been wondering what these markings are on the map between Crevton and Lagal. Here. See? These very small dots?" I handed the map to Artemerio. "The way is clear for us for probably the rest of the day, but tomorrow we may have some new difficulties to deal with."

"Look that way," said Artemerio, pointing. "Is that the edge of a forest? Perhaps that is what the markings are."

"We have not traveled far enough yet for the markings to be that forest. But the shade of those trees will be a good place to stop for a meal. The people need to rest and eat—and soon."

We walked for at least another hour before we reached the forest. For much of the way, the ground was covered only sparsely with vegetation. As we neared the forest, however, wild grasses grew in dense clumps. Navigating the people through that area slowed us down considerably.

When we arrived at a suitable stopping place, the people gathered close together to eat. Jes found Artemerio and me and sat at the foot of the tree nearest to us.

"How are the people handling the travel?" I asked him. "Have any fallen behind?"

"Not many fell behind in the beginning, but more and more of them began to stumble or slow down as the day passed," he said. "We should travel no farther than the edge of Black Rock Forest today. The people will need all of their strength for that part of our journey."

"I have never heard of Black Rock Forest." I took out the jester's map and showed it to Jes. "Is it here? Where these markings are?"

"Barto, what are you doing?" said Artemerio. "How do you know you can trust him with the map? I mean no offense to you, Jes, of course. You must understand."

"Yes, I understand," said Jes.

"I have a feeling that the jester sent him or that he is a friend of the jester," I said.

"In a manner of speaking, the jester did send me," said Jes, laughing. A light gust of wind swept his wild hair up into an even wilder display of shocking red, as if the wind were playing a joke in response to his good humor.

"Well, then," said Artemerio, "what can you tell us about this Black Rock Forest? How can we be prepared?"

"You cannot prepare for it," said Jes. "And the weight of knowing about what is ahead would be too much for you. This part of the journey must be taken one step at a time."

"Then you cannot help us?" said Artemerio.

"Oh, yes. I can help. I can sing you the songs of the stars. Would either of you care for some fruit?" Jes offered us tiny grapes that were clustered together on a thin but strong vine.

I took what Jes offered, but Artemerio shook his head and waved it away.

The pieces of fruit—which were not actually grapes—had a powerful sweetness, and I found I wanted to eat them one by one to savor the taste. Each bite burst with a new sense of something that was exciting and refreshing at once. I easily recognized the taste: hope.

"If you will excuse me...perhaps others would care for some of this fruit." Jes rose and left us.

***

The Crevtonians were not at all eager to travel on. Most wanted to stay in that spot and start fresh the next day. But in the end, Artemerio and I persuaded them to travel a bit farther to reach the nearest stream, which was one of the few we would encounter for some time, according to the map.

As it turned out, reaching the stream required crossing from one side of the forest to the other. But the tedious trek was well worth the effort; the edge of the forest near the stream provided an ideal spot to stop for the night. The trees were farther apart there, so the people were able to find open areas for lying down. And leaves and pine needles blanketed the forest floor, creating a firm but cushioned bed.

As the sun set, the people were able to remove their blindfolds, refill their flasks with water from the stream, and settle themselves for the night.

"I do not know how to explain it," said Roin to me as we filled our flasks. "The darkness is not as dark. I suppose it is because this used to be what our daylight was like. But night in Crevton was dark through and through. And secretly, I was always afraid that the giant would never move and let us see the stars again. But there is no giant! I will sleep well tonight."

Roin left just as Artemerio returned from an exploratory walk. The expression on Artemerio's face concerned me.

"I climbed up on a hill at the edge of the forest," said Artemerio. "I could see the tall, black, jagged rocks of Black Rock Forest from there—I could actually look down into Black Rock Forest." He paused.

"Yes?" I said. "And?"

"We must go around. We will never make it through."

# Chapter 11: Black Rock Forest

"But—you have seen the map—we cannot go around. It is too far, and there is no water. Why do you think we will not make it through?" I said.

"Many of the rocks are as tall as trees, and there is no straight path to follow. Small boulders block spaces between the tall rocks, creating a hopelessly complicated maze with very narrow passages that wind around and lead to nowhere. We will not be able to travel in a line as we have done until now. The people will need to climb over the boulders, and they will need both hands for that." Artemerio sighed and shook his head. "Traveling will be a long, slow, difficult process, and we will run out of supplies well before we are able to find our way out. That is why we will not make it through."

Artemerio's words were discouraging, and I almost gave in to his deep sense of despair. But even as I considered Artemerio's grim news and felt his gloom begin to take hold of my thoughts, a tiny spark of hope sprang up and pushed the gloom aside.

"I understand what you have said, and I am sure Black Rock Forest is as much of an obstacle to us as you say. But Lady Wisdom and the Great King would not have sent us if we were doomed to fail. We will make it through to the other side."

"I hope you are right," he said, but his face expressed great doubt and revealed no hopefulness at all.

***

The next morning, the people woke before sunrise to eat and prepare for the day. Jes had a seemingly limitless supply of the grape-like fruit, and he shared it with anyone who wanted some and encouraged all to take extra from him for the journey. He served the people with nimble quickness, and his merriment, restrained though it was, seemed to enliven those he served. Again I had a feeling I had met him somewhere before.

When the light became unbearable, the people covered their eyes with their blindfolds. Soon after that, we began the day's journey.

The Crevtonians walked in a line, each person's hands on the shoulders of the person ahead. Artemerio and I again led.

Across a clearing, I could see the shiny, black, jagged rocks of Black Rock Forest, and I began to wonder if we really could make it through. The black rocks resembled flames of fire shooting straight up well above our heads. From what I could see, it was, indeed, the terrible and terrifying maze Artemerio had described it to be.

After we had crossed the clearing, Artemerio said, "We should stop. We cannot continue on like this. Perhaps Jes will finally tell us more about Black Rock Forest—now that we are practically inside the place."

Artemerio explained to the people that we would be stopping. While the people began to take their rest, Artemerio and I found Jes.

"Will you tell us nothing more about what we can expect of Black Rock Forest?" said Artemerio.

"There is a monument that will tell you all that can be known of Black Rock Forest," said Jes.

"Where can we find this monument?" I said.

"You cannot find it. It will find you," said Jes.

"It will find us?" Artemerio frowned.

"Yes. And you need to read the words on the monument aloud to the people. They must know the exact words," said Jes.

"But can you not give us some small hint of what the monument says?" said Artemerio.

"I cannot. Black Rock is different each time a person passes through," said Jes.

"That makes no sense," said Artemerio. "How can it be different for—" He looked at Jes and shook his head. "Never mind. We will find the monument."

***

We found the monument—or the monument found us—with little difficulty. It was large, pointed, angular, shiny, and black, like all of the other rocks, but it was taller and separated from the rest of Black Rock Forest. These words had been etched into it, and in the sunlight, the etching shone like fire:

Traveler, take heart. Deep are the shadows of Black Rock Forest. Dangerous are the twists and turns of its many, many paths. Looking, you will not see the way, but Traveler, take heart. Hold to hope, cling to the Rock, and you will make it through. Traveler, take heart.

"This is supposed to help us?" said Artemerio.

"Oh, yes," said Jes. "It is very helpful. It tells us to take heart. That is the most important thing to remember in situations like this. As for the specific guidance you seek, the words are something of a riddle and will only make sense once we are in Black Rock."

Artemerio scowled. "You mean these few mysterious words are our only help? We are supposed to hope that somehow the words make sense at some point and help us find the way? That we are just supposed to—to—to—take a step of—of—"

"Faith?" said Jes. "Yes. It will not be just one step, though. It will be several—from one side of Black Rock to the other. It is not a good idea to stop halfway." He chuckled. "And yes—of course you have to hope that the words make sense. Of course you have to hope that we will make it through. Hope is a step that comes before a step of faith. Why take a risk if you do not hope for what the end result of that risk might be?" He reached into his satchel and pulled out a handful of the grape-like fruit. He held it toward Artemerio.

Artemerio accepted the fruit reluctantly but ate a piece or two as he stared at the words on the monument.

"But what if hope disappoints us?" Artemerio took another bite of the fruit. "I have hoped for many things that did not come to pass."

"Hope will never disappoint you," said Jes. "Circumstances may. The outcome of a situation may. It is certainly possible that what you hope for might not happen. But hope will only help you—it will give you the strength to keep going and to fight to the last for the thing you are hoping for. Hope does not make a thing come true, of course, and many a fool has clung to ridiculous expectations out of a misguided sense of hope. But the disappointment, the ridiculous expectations—these are not the things to be feared." Jes shook his head solemnly.

"Then what is to be feared?" said Artemerio.

"Hopelessness," said Jes. "For a man to give up hope is a dreadful thing. It leads most certainly to failure and heartbreak. And many men have been lost before their time—I mean that they have perished—for no other reason than that they gave up hope."

Artemerio finished eating the fruit Jes had given him. "Who are you? I think you are something more than you have led us to believe."

Jes smiled broadly and began to chuckle. "Perhaps. But only the jester can tell you who I am. Now—shall we gather the Crevtonians and be on our way?"

***

With the people crowded around us and straining eagerly to hear, Artemerio recited the words of the monument.

"Hope, cling to the rock, take heart," the people whispered again and again to each other.

"How are we to travel through?" Roin asked. "How are we to hold on to each other?"

"You cannot hold on to each other," said Artemerio. "You must walk alone. You will need both hands to protect yourselves from colliding with the rocks."

"But then how are we to find our way out?" asked a woman near Roin.

"Hope. Cling to the rock. Take heart," said Jes. "You will find your way. All of us will make it through. Artemerio and I will lead, and I will sing for you. You can follow the sound of my voice. And Barto will follow at the very back to help those who may fall behind. But now take hold of one another's hands—form a chain—yes, very good—and we will lead you to the edge of Black Rock."

Jes and Artemerio led the Crevtonians forward, and Jes began to sing. Once the people set foot inside Black Rock, they let go of the hands they held and began to walk with their arms extended, carefully feeling for obstacles. With their feet they gently tested the path for boulders.

We moved painfully slowly, and though I could see, I was not much better off than the others. The path began to twist and turn so much that I quickly became disoriented and could not have found my way back to our starting point. The maze almost seemed to be shifting as I walked through it.

No grass, trees, or anything else grew in Black Rock Forest, and I saw no animals or insects, either. Twists and turns in the path soon separated me from the others. The feeling of being disoriented and alone made each moment feel ages long.

The songs Jes sang provided the only sense of direction and the only comfort. He sang songs of the stars, and just as the songs sung by the stars had called me up and out of Crevton, the songs Jes sang called me forward and out of Black Rock. In the silence and solitude of the shadows, I had time to pay attention to the words. He sang of the Great King—of the Great King's glory and goodness. And he sang of hope.

I had never heard the stories he sang of, nor had I heard so much about the Great King before. Something in me told me the songs were right and true, and that same something caused me to hunger for more—for more of the songs and for more knowledge of the Great King. I was so caught up in the songs that I began to neglect to pay attention to my steps. And then I fell.

In attempting to rise, I grabbed onto a large boulder near my arm—and my fingers found a strange groove in the boulder's top. I examined the groove and discovered it was a large arrow that had been etched deeply into the rock.

With a wildly hopeful idea forming in my mind, I began to look more closely at all of the rocks around me. All had arrows etched into them. The shadows of Black Rock kept the arrows hidden from all but a close inspection, but the Crevtonians would easily be able to follow the arrows by feeling them.

"Stop!" I shouted as loudly as I could. "Everyone stop! Stop! Artemerio and Jes, where are you? Do you hear me?" My voice bounced off the rocks and echoed back to me.

The singing stopped.

"Barto, we hear you!" Artemerio called out from some place far away.

"Grab the rock nearest to you and feel for an arrow. Follow the arrows!" I shouted.

People began to cry out joyfully as they found the arrows.

"Cling to the rock!" someone shouted.

"Travelers, take heart!" someone else shouted.

Because the shadows hid the arrows so well and because rocks indicating a turn had more than one arrow on them, I had to feel my way along, just like the blindfolded Crevtonians had to do. But the journey seemed very short from then on.

The afternoon sun was still up in the sky when I emerged from Black Rock.

"And there is Barto," Artemerio said as I walked out from the rocks.

The Crevtonians cheered.

"Am I the last? Are we all here?" I said.

"Yes," said Artemerio. "You are the last. No one is missing. And look! We can make it to the waterfalls before sunset."

I did not need the map to see the way to Lagal. Across the flat, barren desert before me, I could see the waterfall-shrouded mountain in the distance. The arrows had led us through Black Rock to a place that was, at the most, an hour away from the waterfalls—an hour even leading the blindfolded Crevtonians at our usual slow pace.

"Would you mind following at the back?" Artemerio said to me. "I have begun a conversation with Jes I would like to finish."

I agreed, and we resumed our careful advancement toward Lagal.

***

Artemerio and Jes stopped the procession when we were a few feet away from the edge of the cliff near the waterfalls. Jes warned the people not to wander beyond that spot.

"Well, here we are again," said Artemerio.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes." Jes laughed.

And then I realized who he was.

# Chapter 12: A Bridge and a Choice

Jes pulled off the wig of wild red hair and the mask with the large nose.

"The jester?" Artemerio sounded as astonished as I felt.

"At your service!" The jester bowed. "I have been disguised as Wit and as Jes and as the old man outside Folpin. And in each disguise, it has been a privilege and an honor to serve you." He bowed again.

"But why were you—" Artemerio began.

"There is no time for questions. You have done as Lady Wisdom asked. You have led the people to Lagal. What happens now is up to them. You do not have to go with them any farther. But the same choice that is presented to them will be presented to you. Choose well. This may be the most dangerous moment of your quest. And now I must go. Wait here. You will know what to do." The jester turned away from us. "Farewell, Crevtonians!" he shouted. And then he strode quickly away.

I stood still, stunned. Artemerio, however, followed after the jester.

"Wait!" Artemerio called out.

I began to follow him.

The jester stopped and turned to face us. "I apologize, Artemerio—but no. I cannot wait. I must go. You have a decision to make here, and I have urgent business to attend to elsewhere." He turned away and set off at a quicker pace.

Artemerio trotted after him. "But we—"

The jester stopped again and faced Artemerio. All merriment was gone from his eyes. "Lady Wisdom has been captured. I must go."

"Lady Wisdom?" Artemerio sounded troubled—almost frantic. "I will go with you. I can—"

The jester shook his head.

"But—" Artemerio started again.

"Artemerio, you must trust me. Follow the map I gave you. Do not follow me. You will serve the Lady better by finishing this quest than by anything else you could do." The jester nodded curtly to Artemerio. His expression was stern. Then he turned quickly and forcefully—so quickly and forcefully that his cloak snapped and flared into a giant circle—and he walked away.

Artemerio stared after him.

"What was that all about?" I said.

"What was what all about?" Artemerio said, still staring after the jester.

"You following after the jester so determinedly...the argument...the forlorn look in your eyes. Need I go on?"

Artemerio slowly turned his attention away from the jester. He stared at me without speaking for a moment and then said, "What did you— What happened to you when you met Lady Wisdom?"

"What does that have to do with—"

"Please answer me."

"I cannot. I have no idea what you mean."

"I mean— I mean—" Artemerio paused. "What were your thoughts? What was being near her like for you?"

"My...thoughts..." I stared at him curiously. "Very well. My thoughts. I experienced the same sort of fragrance—wisdom—that I experienced when we stood before King Syroton and Queen Athalia. And I wanted to ask her question after question about—"

"Yes, yes. But how did you—how did you _feel_ toward her?"

I had not thought about it until then, but I knew exactly how I felt. "I loved her."

"Oh." Artemerio frowned. "Of course you did. I suppose you thought she was beautiful and gracious and brave and kind and—"

"Well, yes—but I meant that I loved her as a...as a dear friend or a sister. But I still do not understand what this has to do with your strange behavior."

Artemerio hesitated a moment before answering. "I loved her, too—but differently than you described. More than that, though, I saw...I saw...I do not know what the word for it is, exactly, but it was like what we saw in Lagal when you recited the riddle. A misty image appeared to me, and in that image, I saw myself as the king of Windsal—and I saw her as the queen. I followed after the jester because I could not bear the thought of Lady Wisdom being in danger. I feel I must save her somehow." He paused. "Do I sound crazy? I told all of this to the jester—well, I thought he was Jes then, or I might have thought better of it—but that is the conversation I wanted to finish having with him when we left Black Rock—and I asked him if he thought I was crazy. But he just laughed and said something about the pursuit of a king. Considering his response, I was not sure he was the right person to ask about something being crazy. So—tell me, Barto. What do you think?"

"I do not think you sound crazy. Beyond that, I do not know what to say."

"There is a bit more I should mention. I think I solved—"

"Welcome, Crevtonians," said the voice that sounded like the rushing waters—the voice of the Great King.

While Artemerio and I had been discussing Lady Wisdom, the Crevtonians apparently had begun to feel the calming effects of the peaceful roar of the water. They were all sitting or lying down. Gentle, sporadic snoring confirmed that some had fallen asleep. But the voice roused them all from their rest.

Again the Great King spoke, but in a language I could not understand. Immediately, a bridge of rock began to form. It stretched from the edge of the cliff near us to whatever was beyond the waterfall. Short walls of rock began to grow up from each side of the bridge, providing a waist-high guard for those who would pass over.

Then a short monument of the same sort of rock formed near the entrance to the bridge. It said the following:

Welcome, Traveler. Be happy, indeed, for the Great King has called you, and you have pursued Him. Or perhaps you think your wandering or another quest has brought you here—be doubly happy then! The Great King has called all, and all are welcome to accept His invitation!

The Great King invites you to live life as it was meant to be. To accept, you must simply give up the right to rule yourself—a matter of giving up a fragile crown of paper for a lasting crown of gold. In the Great King, you will find the beginning of wisdom and the source of all good things. To accept, simply cross the bridge and pass through the waterfall, leaving all else behind.

If you do not want to accept the invitation of the Great King, you are free to go. But be warned: All other choices lead only to disappointment and destruction. All other choices lead to Dunley.

Choose well.

Bright green vines had grown along the sides of the bridge, and white flowers had bloomed, adding a touch of life and beauty to the gray rock. The strong fragrance of the flowers began to spread, and even the Crevtonians—standing some distance away—noticed.

"What is that lovely smell?" someone asked.

"It smells like—" The tall, gaunt elderly man began to sniff the air. He sighed with delight. "It smells like beauty. Where is it coming from?"

The people began to whisper excitedly among themselves.

"Crevtonians," said the Great King, "you may remove your blindfolds. Your eyes are healed."

The Crevtonians removed their blindfolds and looked around with wide-open eyes. Some began to weep. Others began to point excitedly at all they could see: the water, the sky, the bridge, Black Rock Forest in the distance—all were worth their notice and praise.

"Over here," I said to them. "Read this."

The Crevtonians gathered around the monument as Artemerio and I moved away to make room for them. Someone began reading the monument's words aloud. One by one, the people began crossing the bridge and passing through the waterfall.

"What should we do?" I asked Artemerio after the last person had passed through the water. "Do you think this is the choice the jester meant we would have to make?"

"Yes," said Artemerio. "I have something to tell you, Barto. I solved the riddle. The answer is wisdom. I thought of it when I was talking to Jes—the jester—about Lady Wisdom. The lines from the riddle about calling out to all and turning all from 'waywardness, suffering, and pain' reminded me of her. And then—well—wisdom very obviously matched the riddle's other descriptions, also."

I knew he was right. Once he said the answer, it seemed to be the only answer that could possibly have been right. "Well done, Artemerio!"

"Thank you. But there is more. It seems like a strange coincidence that I just thought of the answer and that here this monument tells us that in the Great King we will find the beginning of wisdom. It seems like such a strange coincidence that I do not think it is a coincidence at all. Barto, I think we are at a crossroads. The jester was right. We have a choice to make. I have a feeling we could finish our journey, report our answer to the king and queen, and be sailing for the Unconquered Lands within the month. When we started this journey, I would have taken that course without hesitation. But now, the better choice—the only thing that seems right—is actually to...pursue wisdom—choose wisdom—like the riddle says. And what was it Lady Justice said? The truth of the answer must weigh so heavily upon us that it becomes part of us—and our quest becomes a pursuit within a pursuit? I want to meet the Great King, even if it means that our journey ends here and that we never sail for the Unconquered Lands."

"And Lady Wisdom?"

"Even if it means I am never king and she is never my queen," he said firmly. "Pursue wisdom, and choose wisdom—whatever the cost—that is what the riddle says—whatever the cost. And the beginning of wisdom, as the monument says, is choosing the Great King above all else."

I was speechless. All I could do for a few moments was nod. "Artemerio, I completely agree. I have wanted to meet the Great King since I first heard of him. Let's cross the bridge. Whatever the cost. And, anyway, I have had enough of Dunley to last a lifetime. If all other roads lead to him—no, thanks."

Artemerio and I walked side by side across the bridge. The wall of water thoroughly soaked us, and it came down with such force that we had to grip the sides of the bridge as we passed through.

On the other side of the water, we stepped into a large, warm, empty chamber. The chamber was well lit, but I saw no source of light. Directly across from where we entered was a hallway. Artemerio and I walked to the hallway and looked inside. Rock steps led gradually up.

"Well," said Artemerio, "at least it is not another ladder. Still, we have a long climb ahead of us." We filled our flasks with water from the waterfall and began the climb.

***

A gentle light filled the stairway, but there were no torches or lamps or anything else to explain it. As we walked, a warm breeze—like air that had passed over a flame—surrounded us. When our clothes were completely dry, the warm breeze disappeared.

Every now and then, the stairs would end at a landing, and a new stairway would lead farther up. The climb was unthinkably long—even longer than the climb up the white ladder had been. But drinking the water from the waterfall—even just a few drops—removed all weariness and renewed my strength.

We had crossed the bridge before sunset, but the climb took so long that it was well into the night when we reached the top. Artemerio opened the heavy wooden door that led out. We emerged from the stairway into the cool night air of Lagal and found ourselves near a wide, rushing stream in an open field covered with soft grass. The door closed behind us with a quiet thud, and then it disappeared. No trace of the many stairs we had climbed remained.

Suddenly, the sky was as bright as if the sun were overhead, and a voice that sounded like thunder said, "Barto and Artemerio—welcome."

# Chapter 13: The Great King

I turned. With no introduction but the sound of his voice, I knew who had spoken: the Great King.

He was dressed in royal robes of colors deeper than I had ever seen. Daylight streamed from him. His dark hair was crowned with gold that shone with its own light, and the jewels set in the gold were like brilliantly colored stars.

The splendor I remembered from the Windsalian throne room was nothing compared to the imposing magnificence of the Great King's presence. In his presence, I could not stand. I knelt down before him, but even that was not enough. I leaned forward and touched my face to the ground.

"Welcome, Noblemen of Windsal." The Great King's words were like flames: purifying, refining—but alive. And they were also like a sword: piercing, dividing—but making whole.

I felt for a moment as if warm oil had been poured over me. And then I felt a great weight lifting off me, as if a heavy weight of sand that had covered me was being blown away gradually but completely by the wind. And then a rush of gladness followed—and I dared to look up at the Great King.

"You may rise," said the Great King—merry and magnificent at once. "Artemerio, walk with me."

Artemerio, who had also been kneeling with his face down on the ground, stood and walked toward the Great King.

The two spoke for some time, and then the Great King sent Artemerio back to where I stood and called for me.

Even if I had not known where to go, I could have followed the Great King's footsteps. Rather than being trampled down by his weight, the grass where he had walked was unbroken and was a brilliant, blazing green. Everything he touched seemed more vibrant, more alive, and more itself—more as it was meant to be.

"Your quest is not over, Barto," the Great King said to me. "Artemerio is to be the next king of Windsal at the end of the current king's reign. Because he chose to honor me and to seek out wisdom, his reign will bring great good to all Windsal and accomplish all that I had planned. You will be part of that reign, and you will not be less than he. Because of your service to your brother through this quest—because you have saved him and kept him from falling into the hands of Dunley—in Lagal, you will be honored more highly than your brother. But I know that titles and deference are not important to you, and I know that you are a great adventurer at heart. So, Barto, do what is in your heart to do. You _are_ an adventurer.

"But as I said, you are to finish this quest. Your brother needs you. Because of the great good that I want to bring to Windsal through Artemerio, Dunley hates him and would destroy him if he could. That is why he has tried so hard to keep Artemerio from becoming king and to turn him away from wisdom and from me. So go with Artemerio to visit the remaining cities, help him rescue Lady Wisdom, and then return with him to King Syroton."

He spoke to me another moment longer. Then he left, and the darkness of night returned.

"Shall we try to find the inn?" I said to Artemerio. "I am not sure where we are, but—"

"No. We have slept in worse places than open fields. And I hope to hear the singing of the stars."

And so we did hear the stars. And I understood why they sang for joy.

***

In the morning, Artemerio and I stopped at the inn for breakfast. As we ate, a young messenger boy approached and bowed.

"Excuse me, Nobleman Barto and Nobleman Artemerio. I have a message for you from the elders." The messenger handed me a folded piece of paper. He bowed again and left us.

"The elders want to meet with us before we leave," I said after reading the note. "We are to go to the Fortress of Elders."

Artemerio frowned slightly. "Very well. But perhaps you should do all of the talking. I would like to keep my voice."

I laughed.

"I am quite serious," said Artemerio.

We quickly finished eating and then set out.

The fortress was as massive and majestic as I recalled; its grandeur had not faded with familiarity. That the walls enclosing the grounds, the watchtowers, and the castle itself were made of rock—one solid, uncut rock—still awed me.

At the large gate, one of the elders greeted us.

"Nobleman Barto, Nobleman Artemerio, welcome," he said. "The Great King asked us to provide you with some things you will need to complete your quest, and we have prepared a small ceremony in your honor. Follow me, please." He turned and led us toward the castle.

The elder told us that rooms had been prepared for each of us and that we would each find a change of clothes and a hot bath waiting.

"Are we not to go to Lyton today?" I said. "I thought there was some urgency to our leaving."

"Oh, there is," said the elder. "And you will go there today. But not just yet. Now, bathe and dress in the clothes laid out for you. We will send for you when it is time for the ceremony to begin." He bowed and walked away.

***

Not long after I had finished bathing and changing, a servant came to my door to escort me to the Grand Chamber, where the elders were waiting.

"I feel like a new man," said Artemerio as he and another servant joined us in the hallway.

"You look like a new man," I said.

His improvement went beyond clean clothes and the smell of soap. In his new attire and with a new black cloak of a strong, thick fabric, Artemerio looked like a nobleman. There was a new dignity about him, but it came as much from the way he carried himself as it did from his new clothes.

I do not know that my appearance was quite as impressive as Artemerio's, but once I had changed clothes, I felt less like a fisherman's son trying to be an adventurer and more like I had become an adventurer. Then again, I think the change really came for me when I spoke with the Great King.

The servants led us into the Grand Chamber and then left us. When we entered the room, the elders were sitting around a large table. On seeing us, they stood.

"Welcome, Nobleman Barto and Nobleman Artemerio," said one of the elders. Strangely, he spoke in the language of Lagal, and I understood him.

Stranger still, Artemerio answered him in the language of Lagal. "It is our honor to be here," Artemerio said.

"The Great King gave you the gift of Lagalian speech—to understand it and to speak it," said the elder, this time speaking the language of Windsal. "It will bring clarity to your thoughts when you need guidance, and it will help you to bring your circumstances in line with the heart of the Great King."

Another elder spoke words in Lagalian, and two swords appeared on the table. Speaking to us in the language of Windsal, he said, "You leave Lagal much changed. Though you will walk in strength you have never known, you will be walking into many battles. These swords are for you."

An elder brought them to us, and we strapped the swords to our sides.

"These swords are made from the very words of the Great King," said an elder. "They will never—they can never—be taken from you unless you allow it. And anyone who might want to take them will not see them until you use them. And they will shatter all other weapons that come against you."

A different elder began speaking. "The jester sent word to us that he will leave any messages he has for you at the inn at Lyton. And now, Nobleman Barto, Nobleman Artemerio, you are free to go—in the name of the Great King."

The elders bowed.

"In the name of the Great King," Artemerio and I said as we bowed.

We walked in silence out of the Fortress of Elders. Outside the gate, I pulled out the jester's map.

"Lyton is the next city," I said.

"Right," said Artemerio. "Then here we go—to just outside of Lyton."

The next thing I saw was a large stone monument that had cracked in two. The only word I could read on the monument was _Lyton_. Where other words likely had been, the monument's surface was pitted and uneven. Chunks of stone cluttered the ground, but those had been smashed into rubble too small to reveal any distinguishable words.

"Something is terribly wrong," said Artemerio, pointing at an iron statue a few steps beyond the monument.

The statue was of Dunley. He was dressed as some kind of royal person with a crown on his head.

"Do you like it?" said an all-too-familiar voice from directly behind us.

# Chapter 14: Lyton

"What have you done?" said Artemerio as he turned to face the real Dunley.

"In Lyton?" Dunley grinned an evil grin. "I will let that remain a surprise for you. But you must know by now that I have kidnapped Lady Wisdom. I will kill her if you do not do as I say."

A heaviness that felt like darkness falling began to settle over me, and whispers of fear and despair filled the air.

"You have no future, Artemerio," said Dunley. "You will fail in this quest. Do you really think you will be a king? Really?" Dunley laughed but then stopped suddenly, resuming his speech. "You are only the son of a fisherman! You know in your heart I am right. Listen. Listen to what your heart is telling you now."

The air grew heavier and heavier, and the whispers of fear and despair multiplied and blended together into an unnerving hiss.

Dunley continued. "Your only hope is to serve me. Give me what I want, and in exchange, I will give you Lady Wisdom and your life."

_Do not be afraid to speak, Barto_. The thought drifted through my mind like a pleasant breeze. A Lagalian phrase followed, and I spoke it.

The heaviness lifted. The whispers stopped.

Dunley stared at me with a look first of horror and then of hate. "So you have been back to Lagal. I suppose you met the Great King, yes? I suppose he told you many secrets and babbled on about your destinies, yes?"

Neither Artemerio nor I answered. We stood our ground, staring back at him.

"Lies!" said Dunley. "All lies! You cannot trust the Great King! You have seen his work—he is the giant the Crevtonians fear, and he is the one who punishes the people of Folpin for their magic. Do not believe that he has good plans—for you or for Windsal. He—"

Artemerio interrupted him. "Yes, we know his work. He made a way for the rebels of Folpin to turn from their rebellion against his law and escape your torture. And yes, we saw how he dealt with the people of Crevton—by sending us to help them escape the darkness. By the way, you tried to kill us as we led the people out of Crevton, did you not?" Artemerio paused. "And as for me, I know that he called me, the lowly son of a fisherman, to meet him—the Great King. I know that just as words have power in Lagal—perhaps you remember our encounter there?—the Great King's words have power everywhere. He holds all things together by his words. He is no liar, unlike you. Of course I believe him."

Dunley pulled out a dagger and lunged at me—not to kill me, it seemed, but to take me as a hostage. Before he could touch me, though, I had drawn my sword and knocked the dagger out of his hand. He looked startled but quickly regained his composure and said, "If a fight is what you want, a fight is what I will give you. No more negotiating. You will have to fight me for Lady Wisdom. But before you fight me, you must catch me." He ran past the crumbling monument and disappeared into the forest.

"We should not follow," I said quickly, hoping to discourage any thoughts Artemerio might have had of chasing after Dunley.

"I agree," said Artemerio, staring toward where Dunley had disappeared. He turned to face me and then laughed. "I can see from the look on your face that you are surprised—astounded, even. Did you expect me to charge off recklessly after him to do the first thing that came to mind? Well...I suppose it is an understandable expectation. And the thought did occur to me to rush after him. But I suppose I am a new man, after all."

We began the walk into the city. But we had not gone far when I saw a shadowy figure dart between trees. Then I heard a sudden and distinct cracking sound—like the sound of a dry twig snapping.

"We are not alone," I whispered.

We stopped and, swords drawn, studied our surroundings.

"I do not see anyone. Perhaps I was mistaken," I said after several moments. "Or perhaps it was an animal of some sort."

We resumed our trek toward the center of Lyton cautiously, constantly looking for any signs of unwanted company.

_Thump_! I heard the thump almost before I felt it.

"Ouch!" I said, rubbing my head. "Something hit me!"

Something gray flew past my face and hit Artemerio's cheek.

"Ow!" He reached for his cheek. "Where did that come from?"

Looking to the left, I saw a short, plump, white-haired man gesturing wildly, first for us to be quiet and then for us to come to him.

"Do you think it is a trap?" I whispered.

"I have had the feeling since we left Dunley that there are traps all around us. But this man could have done more than throw pebbles at us by now. He seems harmless enough."

We started walking toward the man, who smiled broadly and nodded his head as he continued to gesture for us to come to him. He began to walk away from us, but he kept waving his arm for us to follow him. I glanced at Artemerio. He nodded.

We passed through a part of the forest that was dense with all kinds of trees, but the forest gave way to a clearing with a small cottage situated in the center of it. Rings of smoke rose from the chimney, and cheerful flowerboxes lined the windows. The man we had followed rushed to open the wide wooden door and then stood in the doorway gesturing for us to come inside.

As soon as we entered the house, the man shut the door behind us and bolted it.

"Can't be too careful," he said.

"Careful to keep us in, or careful to keep others out?" I said.

The man laughed. "Oh, you have no need to worry! I have helped you, I have, though I do apologize for throwing those pebbles. You boys look like nice young men—remind me of my great-great-grandsons. I could not let you walk into Lyton unaware. News travels slowly from here, and, well, everything happened so fast!" By that point in his speech, the little man's face was quite red. He paused to catch his breath.

"What happened to Lyton?" said Artemerio.

"I can tell you in one word," said the man. "Dunley. Dunley happened to Lyton. In only a matter of weeks, he has managed to divide the town and cause such strife that no household is left in peace. It has been awful, I tell you, awful!" The man's face grew bright pink, and he took a deep breath. "My wife and I make cakes for the people of Lyton and Caston. Well, she bakes 'em, and I deliver 'em. Quite a nice business we have. Anyway, I had seen warning signs for weeks now—the butcher angry at the shoe repairman, the doctor upset with the librarian, and the florist enraged at the painter.

"And Dunley has been behind it all. I am sure of it! But he set himself up as the only answer to the problem. Said only he had the skill to serve as a judge to settle their fights—fights he started, mind you, with his rumors and deceit. I was there when he told some tremendous lies. I tried to set the record straight, but he was powerfully persuasive. And then he set up the council—ten men who help him handle all the disagreements. People were so tired of fighting that they jumped at the idea of having Dunley as judge and the council to help him.

"The council is also to govern in Dunley's place when he is gone—he comes and goes quite a bit. The members of the council smashed the monument—you must have seen it—the monument we have had for generations that tells the story of the fair city of Lyton. They also set up that monstrosity of a statue in Dunley's honor. That council is nothing but trouble, I tell you. But it gets worse! Over the last few weeks, Dunley has moved soldiers in to surround the city. Lyton is under siege! The Lytonians believe it is for the purpose of keeping peace, but I do not believe that—not at all.

"So I had to stop you before you wandered into a dangerous situation. Once you had gone in, who is to say if you could ever have come back out? The soldiers are very particular about who is allowed in. I get in because of the cakes, of course—those Lytonians will give up their freedom but not their cake. Same for the Castonians, come to think of it. But, anyway, there you have it." He sat down at his kitchen table, reached for a glass of water, and took long, deep breaths.

Artemerio held out his hand. "Good sir, I am Artemerio. This is my brother, Barto. And you are?"

"Baker," said the man.

"No, your name," said Artemerio. "What is your name?"

"Baker." He smiled. "Baker is my name. Odd coincidence that I would end up marrying an expert cake maker and spend my life delivering cakes, I know! I have several children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren—and even a few great-great-grandchildren—who are also bakers—not named Baker, though there are one or two of those—but I mean that they bake. But there you have it." He took another drink of water. His face had gradually faded from red to pink as he sat.

"You boys, I mean, Artemerio and Barto, you are welcome to stay here tonight. My wife went to visit her sister this morning, but she will be back any time. Of course, you are also free to go. I just wanted to warn you, like I said. I have been keeping a lookout for travelers since all of this happened."

"Is anyone going to do anything about what you have told us?" said Artemerio. "How does the king usually handle situations like this?"

"Situations like this? Situations like this?" Baker stood and started turning deep pink. "I tell you, nothing like this has happened in all my life! We could send a messenger to the king, and someone may have done just that. But we are days away from Truscella. Sending the message and receiving an answer could take weeks. We must organize our own army, I tell you!" He pounded his fist on the table. "But there is no one to organize. And the people of Lyton are so deceived about their own situation that they would not rise up to help anyone we could send in from the outside, anyway. Besides that, I hate to admit it, but it would take the strength of the king's soldiers to stand up to the troops Dunley has positioned around Lyton. I do not know what kind of war Dunley is expecting for him to bring in such troops, but let me tell you, he has greatly overestimated the strength of the Lytonians."

My thoughts were racing. _How could we get to the inn? What had happened to the jester? What else did Dunley have in mind for us?_

"We have to do something," I said.

"I like the way you think, Barto," said Baker. "Never give up—even in the face of what seems impossible!" He pounded his fist on the table again.

"Barto, Baker—I have an idea," said Artemerio.

# Chapter 15: Sneaking In

"How do you deliver the cakes?" said Artemerio. "In some kind of cart?"

"Yes," said Baker. "You can see one through the window."

Artemerio looked outside. "And how do the cakes travel? Crates? Barrels?"

"Depends on the size," said Baker. "The smaller ones—we sell mostly smaller ones—go in crates. The large ones with many layers go in a special type of crate that goes inside a barrel."

"How many barrels do you have, and how many will fit in the cart?" said Artemerio.

"We only have one barrel here now," said Baker. "Of course, it fits in the cart just fine. If you do not mind my asking, what are you thinking? How is this going to help us rally an army to fight Dunley's troops?"

I had already guessed what Artemerio was thinking. "Artemerio is trying to figure out a way to smuggle us into Lyton. You said you get in and out without any problems. Would you be willing to help us? Would you drive the cart through with us hidden inside?"

"It would be my honor!" Baker's face turned slightly pink, and he pounded his fist on the table. "But if you had just said that from the start, I could have told you that you will not both fit. One of you will fit in the barrel, which will likely not be checked by the troops—especially if I distract the soldiers who stop us with some cake of their own. But they always look in the back of the cart. There is no place to hide the other one of you in there."

"What if one of us dressed as you, Baker?" said Artemerio. "Do the soldiers know you?"

Baker frowned. "I am afraid so. Like I said, those Lytonians enjoy their cake very much. I have been through so many times, I know any of the soldiers would easily spot a fake Baker, especially considering both of you are much taller than I am."

"Could one or both of us pretend to be your great-great-grandsons?" I said.

"We have no disguises," said Artemerio. "Suppose we do something in Lyton that lands us in serious trouble—and someone recognizes us as the great-great-grandsons of Baker?"

"Oh, I do not mind the trouble," said Baker.

But I saw Artemerio's point, and I doubted Baker understood how very much Dunley wanted to harm us.

We all stared down thoughtfully at the table. I happened to glance at an apron folded neatly next to Baker, and a new idea came to me.

"What about your wife? Does she ever go with you?" I said.

Baker's eyes widened. "She does go with me from time to time—usually only when we take one of the large cakes in the barrel. And she does usually spend those days in the city—and returns home by herself later. If you mean to stay in Lyton, my return alone will not arouse suspicion."

"But what about her appearance—especially her height?" said Artemerio. "I suppose she could stay seated, but what if the soldiers ask her to stand?"

"My dear Joletta keeps to herself when we encounter the soldiers, and she has not made nearly as many trips into Lyton as I have. A passing resemblance will fool the soldiers. And she is actually rather tall—about your height. I married tall; she married short. Quite a good pair, we are. Your plan just may work! I will go get one of her dresses. And her lipsticks and rouges and bottles and powders and creams. Oh—and some shoes. And perhaps a wide-brimmed hat. Yes, a wide brim would be best."

"And your wife—Joletta? She will not mind?" I said.

Baker pounded the table with his fist. "It would be her honor. She has wanted to rally an army and protect Lyton, same as me. 'We must help Lyton,' she's always saying. Do not worry about my Joletta. Now—wait right here. I will be right back."

Artemerio volunteered to disguise himself as Joletta—out of guilt for the danger he had put me in in Crevton. I did not object.

The real Joletta came home while Artemerio was trying on her dress. Just as Baker had said, Artemerio and Joletta were nearly the same height, and just as Baker had said, Joletta was very excited that someone was doing something about the situation in Lyton. She was eager to help.

"This is quite extraordinary," she said. "It is so extraordinary, in fact, that I cannot help but feel that the Great King sent you to us. It may be just the two of you, but if the Great King sent you, you cannot fail. And to think—I get to aid the cause!" She pounded her fist on the table, as Baker had done.

***

We decided to set out that evening for Lyton. Joletta helped Artemerio get into his disguise. To help hide his face, she chose a hat that sat low on his forehead and had wide ribbons that tied under his chin. She had some sort of hairpiece that attached under the hat and made it look like white hair was spilling out over Artemerio's shoulders. But Joletta was quite a lovely woman, and Artemerio made quite an unlovely imitation of her.

When Joletta had done all she could to improve the disguise, she stood back, bit her lip, and handed Artemerio a large fan to hide behind.

We did not want to reveal too much about ourselves to Baker or Joletta, for their protection as well as ours, so it was a relief when Baker recommended taking the barrel to the inn.

"We will attract the least attention of all at the inn," said Baker. "And there is a woman there who does not seem to be fooled by Dunley. She might be sympathetic to our cause, and she could be very helpful if anything does not go quite as planned. She has not been there long, but I would trust her with my life, I would. She is the new innkeeper."

"Excellent," I said. "The inn will work perfectly. You and Artemerio can find an empty room to take the barrel to there. But once I am out of the barrel and Artemerio is out of his disguise, it will not be safe for you to be seen with us, Baker."

"I understand," said Baker. "But do not worry about my safety. There are bigger things at stake!"

"Oh, Baker," said Joletta, "do be careful."

"Of course, my dear," said Baker lovingly. "I will be very careful as I risk my life to set Lyton free." He kissed her hand, and she kissed the top of his head. They really were quite a good pair.

With Artemerio in disguise and with all of our goodbyes having been said, the only thing left was for me to climb into the barrel. And then we were off.

At what must have been the edge of Lyton, I heard a soldier ask Baker the reason for his trip into the city. Then I heard someone climb into the back of the cart. I felt someone try to move the barrel, heard him grunt, and then heard him jump off the cart.

"That is a heavy cake there in that barrel," said the soldier. "Where is it going?"

"To the inn," said Baker. "And here is a sample for you, sir—and your friends."

Exclamations of delight followed Baker's words.

"I would hate to hold up a party at the inn," said the soldier. "Move along. You are free to go. And thank you, good man, for the cake."

The cart lurched forward.

***

Once we reached the inn, Artemerio and Baker carried the barrel inside. I could hear a muffled conversation between Baker and some servant. Baker explained that he had a delivery and needed an empty room. The servant protested at first, saying he knew of no celebrations planned at the inn. But Baker's good humor and the promise of his own cake—to be delivered when Baker next returned—persuaded the servant. He agreed to lead them to a room. He also offered to have another servant help carry the cake—so Baker's wife would not have to.

"Oh, no," said Baker. "My lovely wife looks as delicate as a flower, but she is as strong as a horse."

After a harrowing climb up a seemingly endless set of stairs, I heard a door opening and the servant leaving. And then, at last, Artemerio pulled the lid off the barrel and let me out. He then hurriedly changed his clothes and washed away all the creams and colors Joletta had slathered on his face. Joletta's dress and other belongings took my place in the barrel.

"We are grateful for all of your help, Baker—first in keeping us from going to Lyton and then in helping us sneak in," I said. "We are in your debt."

"Nonsense!" said Baker. "Glad to help. Only wish I could do more. But now I better get going. I wish you both the best. I will be doing my part on the outside, sending other travelers away from Lyton. Stand strong—in the name of the Great King."

"In the name of the Great King," Artemerio and I said together.

Baker grabbed the barrel. "Oh—I will be making a trip into Lyton to deliver some orders in the morning. I will be sure to stop at the inn—with a cake for the servant, of course. If you need anything—anything—you just leave a message for me. I am happy to help." He hoisted the barrel onto his shoulder and left.

"Now what?" I said. "Should we find the innkeeper and ask if we have any messages from the jester?"

"No," said Artemerio. "I think we should find a table in the dining room and observe people for a while. We do not know if the innkeeper would have the message, and after all that has happened here, we do not know if we can trust the innkeeper—even if Baker trusts her."

The empty room where we were was upstairs and had a window facing the front, where the cart was. We waited until Baker had loaded the barrel onto the cart and had ridden away before we went downstairs.

Downstairs in the dining room, servants were lighting candles and arranging place settings and centerpieces on long tables. They stopped what they were doing briefly to stare at us but returned to their tasks as if they saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Just as Artemerio and I were about to seat ourselves at one of the tables, an elegant woman dressed in a deep green gown glided out of a small side room. Her dark hair was smoothly and perfectly pulled back away from her face, highlighting her pale skin and delicate features. She stared at us, as the servants had, before she approached us.

"I am the keeper of this inn. Good evening, gentlemen." She gracefully curtsied. Then she whispered, "Or should I say Noblemen? I have been expecting you."

# Chapter 16: Lady Mercy

"Please join me for dinner." The innkeeper led us to a side room where a table had already been prepared for her. She sent a servant to the kitchen to bring food for all of us and place settings for Artemerio and me.

Once the meal was before us and all of the servants were gone, the innkeeper closed the room's heavy door. "We are quite safe here. We may speak freely." She gracefully sat. "I will finish introducing myself. I am Lady Mercy. Now let me guess...you"—she looked at me—"are Nobleman Barto, and you"—she looked at Artemerio—"are Nobleman Artemerio. Am I correct?"

"Yes," said Artemerio.

Lady Mercy smiled. "You are exactly as he described you."

"He?" I said.

"The jester." She reached into a pocket in the folds of her gown and pulled out an envelope. She laid it on the table in front of us. "He left a message for you. He left a bag of disguises, as well."

Artemerio opened the envelope and began to read.

Lady Mercy lifted a plate of what looked like pomegranate seeds and held the plate toward me. "Take as much as you like."

A wonderful fragrance wafted over me—the familiar fragrance of mercy—like what I had experienced in Lady Justice's court when she wept for the guard, only much stronger. I took some of the delicate pinkish fruit from the plate and tasted it. Unlike pomegranate seeds, the small pieces of fruit had no hard center. The flavor was rich and sweet, and I recognized the taste immediately: mercy and grace.

Artemerio, looking very concerned, handed the jester's note to me. The note said the following:

Dear A. and B.,

You would not be reading this if you had not met with the elders, and you would not have met with the elders unless you had made the choice to meet the Great King. So I joyfully welcome you to the Great King's service, and I congratulate you on becoming the noblemen you were destined to be.

But I do have an urgent message for you. I uncovered a plot by Dunley to kill the king, and I had to abandon my efforts to find Lady W. in order to see to the king's safety. You must continue on. Find and save Lady W. I feel sure you will be successful if only you will follow the map and obey anything else the Great King has told you—or may yet tell you—to do.

Be warned: The plot to kill the king is not about the king. It is an effort by Dunley to force A. into a position to rule before his time. Dunley has grown very desperate. Be on your guard at all times.

Dunley has been busy since we last saw him. Besides kidnapping Lady W. and plotting to kill the king, he has also stirred up strife in Lyton among the people and is trying to start a war between Lyton and Caston, the last two cities on your map.

I have entrusted this letter to the faithful hands of Lady M. You may trust her completely.

Remember that you live this moment and all moments in the name of the Great King.

-J.

Someone knocked on the door while I was reading—an unusual, carefully patterned knock. Lady Mercy stood and opened the door just wide enough to carry on a brief, whispered conversation with the person on the other side.

Then she quietly shut the door and returned to the table. "Soldiers are here and are asking for a private dining room for a meeting of the council later tonight."

Someone knocked at the door again—the same patterned knock as before. Lady Mercy reached for something outside and quickly closed the door. In her hand was a plain-looking bag.

"Do you trust me?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Completely," said Artemerio.

Lady Mercy handed the plain-looking bag to me.

"The jester's bag of disguises?" said Artemerio.

"No," said Lady Mercy. "But it does contain disguises. I must ask you to go upstairs to the second room on the left and change into them. I will keep the soldiers distracted making the arrangements for the council's meeting—they will not notice you. And when it is safe for you to come down, I will send someone up to give you a signal—the same knock you have heard here. After you hear that, count to twenty, and then come downstairs." She nodded toward us gracefully and slipped out.

Curious, I opened the bag.

"Well?" said Artemerio.

"Clothing servants would wear."

Cautiously, I opened the door, and we snuck out.

***

We waited for the knock and then went downstairs.

"Servants!" said Lady Mercy when she saw us in the downstairs hallway. "I have a task for you. Something is wrong with the leg of a table that guests—very important ones—must use in one hour. Come with me." She led the way into a private dining room and shut the door.

Speaking in a very soft voice that was almost a whisper, she said, "The middle floorboards are loose. The jester hollowed out a place under the floor to hide. You should be able to hear the council's conversation if you press your ears to the cracks in the floor. The jester gained much important information this way." She knelt and began to lift the boards. "Quickly—in you go."

Artemerio and I climbed into the shallow hole under the floor.

"The council will not allow anyone to enter this room after the servants bring in the food," said Lady Mercy, "and the councilmen pay close attention to anything suspicious. You must not make a sound. Even now, soldiers are watching the door. I will have to distract them and convince them you slipped out when they were not looking. And you will have to wait here until the council leaves and the other servants have cleared off the table and gone." She carefully covered us with the floorboards and then whispered, "Do be careful, Nobleman Barto and Nobleman Artemerio."

***

Before long, the first few members of the council arrived. They carefully inspected the room themselves, checking under the table for hidden spies, searching the walls for holes where someone might be watching or listening, and patting down the drapes to make sure no one was concealed in them.

Servants brought in the entire meal after all of the members of the council had arrived, and as Lady Mercy had said, a council member gave instructions that no one be allowed back in until the meeting had finished. Soldiers guarded the door, and I heard someone say that soldiers were guarding the room's large window from the outside.

After the last servant left, the room was silent. Then I heard three sharp knocks on the door.

"There is the signal. The hallway is clear," said a raspy-voiced council member.

Plates and glasses began clinking and banging.

"Now to business. What news do you have for us, Councilman Mile?" said one of the members of the council.

"Dunley is in Caston, rallying the Castonians against Lyton," said a councilman who was, apparently, Councilman Mile.

"Has he seen any more of the brothers?" someone asked.

"No," said Councilman Mile, "Dunley left them near his statue, and they have not been seen since. But Dunley has the troops surrounding Lyton watching carefully for them. If the brothers have not made it into Lyton yet, they will not. And if somehow they managed to slip in, they certainly will not be able to escape."

"But what about Caston?" said a council member who spoke with his mouth full. "What if the brothers go straight to Caston?"

"They are no safer in Caston than they are in Lyton," said Councilman Mile. "Have you forgotten that the soldiers surrounding Lyton are _from_ Caston?"

Someone laughed, started coughing, took a long drink, and then, still spluttering and chuckling, said, "Those foolish Castonians! They even locked up Lady Wisdom in the dungeon of their watchtower—believing her to be a Lytonian spy. They will believe anything Dunley tells them. And they will do anything he says."

"What? Why were we not all told of this?" said one of the other council members. "I would strongly have advised against it. What if Lady Wisdom convinces the Castonian guards to listen to her? She is powerfully persuasive. Dunley's entire plan may very well unravel if she is allowed to influence the people of Caston."

"Councilman Bru, let me assure you that Dunley does not need your advice." Councilman Mile's tone was cold. "Of course he assigned his own guards to Lady Wisdom. But enough of these distractions. We are here to discuss Dunley's plans." He paused. "Dunley intends for Lyton and Caston to fall by the end of next week. The war will begin soon—very soon. And Lady Wisdom's execution has already been scheduled."

"But the Castonians will never—" Councilman Bru began.

"They will. And that is enough from you, Councilman Bru," said Councilman Mile. "Now, as I was saying, Lady Wisdom will be executed within the next few days. Dunley will make it a memorable occasion for all—highly public so that the news is sure to reach the brothers. And then the destruction of Lyton and Caston will come swiftly."

"What about the plot to kill King Syroton?" said a councilman.

A long pause followed.

"Our first attempt was, regrettably, thwarted." Councilman Mile paused. "Vestero."

The members of the council began to mutter to one another their many complaints regarding Vestero and their evil wishes for great harm to befall him and for him to suffer a slow, painful death. Poisons, knives, arrows, arrows and knives tipped with poisons, falling boulders, sinking ships, vicious wild animals—there seemed to be no limit to their cruel plans for Vestero's death.

"Silence!" said Councilman Mile.

A hush fell.

A deep voice said, "What are _we_ to do? Why have we assembled? Do we have new orders?"

"We have assembled because the end of all is drawing near," said Councilman Mile. "And your orders are as follows: Keep the Lytonians busy fighting with each other. They must be so distracted by the petty arguments we have caused that they do not realize what is happening with Caston. Those of you serving as council members in Caston—continue to fuel the Castonians' pride and their envy toward Lyton. And—all of you—maintain a vigilant watch for the brothers. They must be stopped." He paused. "Finally, you will receive a signal when the war is about to begin. Upon your receipt of that signal, escape to Folpin at once. Waste no time. Any who fall behind will not be saved."

Someone knocked sharply on the door.

"Our time is up," said Councilman Mile. "Remember: The Great King's plans for Artemerio and Barto must not be allowed to come to pass. And Lyton and Caston must fall. Let those thoughts consume you. Now go."

The sound of chairs scraping and bumping against the floor confirmed that the meeting was over. The council members walked out in silence.

***

Artemerio and I remained in our hiding place under the floor, neither speaking nor moving, as servants made several trips in and out of the private dining room.

Then someone closed and locked the door, and graceful footsteps approached.

# Chapter 17: The Plan

Lady Mercy removed the floorboards covering us.

"What have you discovered?" she asked once she had freed us from our hiding place.

We told her.

Then Artemerio said, "Lady Mercy, what can you tell us about this war between Lyton and Caston? Why has King Syroton not intervened? Does he know what is happening? And who is Vestero?"

A flush of concern colored Lady Mercy's cheeks. "Vestero? Why do you ask?"

Artemerio explained what we had heard.

Lady Mercy seemed alarmed but said nothing.

"Perhaps we should warn him," said Artemerio.

"I assure you, he is well aware of the danger he faces," said Lady Mercy.

"Does he need our help, then?" I said.

A fleeting, mysterious smile crossed Lady Mercy's lips. "No." She paused. "But returning to your other questions—yes, the king knows about Lyton and Caston. He has sent an army, but he intends for his soldiers to stay hidden and camped a safe distance away from Caston and Lyton until the full extent of Dunley's plan is known. If this were a rebellion or civil war, he would not stand for it. But the people of Caston and Lyton, for now, are the mere puppets of Dunley. Bringing further destruction and loss to them would only play into Dunley's hands. The king knows that."

"So he sent you," said Artemerio quietly, as if he were thinking aloud and had just realized the answer to a question.

"Only if by _he_ you mean the Great King," said Lady Mercy. "The Great King sent me. Mercy and wisdom have held King Syroton back from using force against the cities. As I said, the people of Caston and Lyton are mere puppets of Dunley right now. He would use them and then destroy them, if he could." Lady Mercy looked back and forth from my eyes to Artemerio's. "The jester told me you have been to Folpin and Crevton—two great cities that gave themselves up to Dunley's control. You have seen what Lyton and Caston will become if they fall—you know what awaits for these dear people if they are allowed to act on the lies they have believed. But it is not too late. Something may yet be done to turn them from their wicked course."

"You think we are to save Lady Wisdom _and_ the cities?" I said.

"I think you will have to save the cities to save Lady Wisdom," said Lady Mercy.

"Of course," said Artemerio, again sounding as if he were thinking aloud and discovering some answer that had previously eluded him. "Perhaps this was part of the Great King's plan all along—perhaps we had to see Folpin and Crevton to understand what is at stake here." He looked curiously at Lady Mercy.

"The Great King's plans run higher and deeper and above and beyond anything we can imagine," said Lady Mercy. "Who can say how many different purposes were served through your obedience? But yes, your understanding of this situation has most certainly been aided by your visits to Folpin and Crevton."

Artemerio nodded. "We cannot let Lyton and Caston fall." He paused. "But...how are we to prevent it?"

His simple question laid bare the overwhelming enormity of the undertaking.

"You must be quite tired and weary," said Lady Mercy. "I will send for something to refresh you."

***

Servants carried in plates of the delicate pinkish fruit we had had earlier and set them before us. Lady Mercy dismissed the servants with orders that we were not to be disturbed.

"How bad is the situation in Lyton?" Artemerio asked Lady Mercy when we were again alone.

"Very bad, I am afraid," said Lady Mercy. "Dunley has managed to turn even the oldest of friends into enemies."

"And Caston?" said Artemerio. "Why would one city in Windsal want to attack another? What makes them think the king will allow it?"

"Dunley somehow made the people of Caston envious of Lyton, and that envy has blinded them to all else. They should know that the king would not allow such an attack, but their single focus is humiliating Lyton and taking what they think should be theirs. Nothing else matters to them now. A city of once peaceful, gracious people has become a city of cruel warriors."

"What about the council?" I said. "How much control does it actually have over Lyton? And who are the council members?"

"The council is composed of men from Folpin whom Dunley brought with him to Lyton. They have total control of Lyton—but only because Dunley has so cleverly and effectively appealed to the Lytonians' pride and kept them locked in arguments with each other," said Lady Mercy.

"I see underestimating Dunley is dangerous," said Artemerio. "What can be done? How can we stop the Lytonians from fighting with each other at the same time that we convince the Castonians to pull back their troops and give up their attack on Lyton?"

As I considered his questions, I reached for more of the delicate and delicious fruit.

Artemerio watched me distractedly, but then he took hold of my plate and held it up. "Mercy and grace." He set the plate down, picked up a piece of the fruit, and began to study it. "We have had other unusual fruit during our journey—joy, peace, hope, truth. When I ate the fruit—all the different kinds of it—I felt what it was. Where does this unusual fruit come from, Lady Mercy? Do we have enough for all of Lyton and Caston? And will this fruit affect others the way it has affected us?"

"The fruit comes from the Great King," said Lady Mercy. "Those who know him are able to grow a limitless supply of many different kinds of fruit. In all cases, it is meant to be given away. We could certainly try to share it with all of Lyton and Caston. But giving it to the people of Lyton and Caston will not turn them into something they are not. It will not work against a person's will."

"Why does the fruit affect us the way it does, then?" I said.

"You have heard the songs of the stars, have you not?" said Lady Mercy.

"Yes," said Artemerio.

"Then you know that the songs are all about the Great King. Some people hear them and are powerfully drawn to them—because they are drawn to the Great King. Some do not hear them at all. And others hear them and hate them—because they have rejected the Great King and hardened their hearts against him. The fruit has the same sort of effect. It is from the Great King, delivered by Windsalian hands, and it carries a small taste of the Great King's character. Some will taste it and long for more—because their hearts long for the Great King. It changes people only to the extent that they want to be changed—only to the extent that they want to have joy, peace, hope, truth, mercy, or any of the other characteristics of the Great King. In other words, they must choose to act in line with what they have tasted. But some will taste it and either think it is an ordinary piece of fruit or else think it is repulsive."

Artemerio stared at the fruit in his hand. "Whether the people love it or hate it, I am convinced that we must give the Lytonians and Castonians something that points them to the Great King. That is their only hope. Nothing else can break the deceptive, destructive hold Dunley has on them."

"You are correct," said Lady Mercy. "If only the people could forget their envy and bitterness, they would easily see the folly of following Dunley. But what you have proposed will not be easy. The Lytonians are so distrustful of anyone but the council right now that I doubt they would accept anything we offered them."

We silently considered the situation.

But then, with an amused smile, Artemerio said, "The people of Caston and Lyton may refuse what we offer them, but they will not refuse cakes from Baker."

Lady Mercy smiled. "They most certainly will not."

"But can Baker provide cake for so many people in such a short time?" I said.

"He will be here tomorrow morning," said Artemerio. "We shall ask him. But I see no other course."

"We should waste no time. Even before we have his answer, we can prepare for him to help us," said Lady Wisdom. "I will see that the fruit is boxed up tonight and ready to be sent with Baker in the morning."

"We will help," said Artemerio.

But Lady Mercy insisted we rest and sent us up to rooms that had been thoughtfully readied for us.

***

Lady Mercy left word with all of the servants that they were to bring Baker to her as soon as they saw him. Artemerio and I waited for Baker's arrival in one of the private dining rooms—out of sight.

Before long, Lady Mercy knocked the special knock, and we unlocked the door to let her and Baker in. She quickly closed and locked the door behind her.

"Good to see you, boys!" said Baker in a partial whisper. He shook our hands excitedly, his animated movements making up for the quietness of his voice. "And I am so glad you met the innkeeper. I tell you, I would trust her with my life."

"Yes, Lady—" I began.

Lady Mercy caught my eye and subtly shook her head. "Please, Baker, won't you have a seat?" She pulled out a chair for him at the table.

"Of course, of course." Baker moved toward the table, and we joined him.

"You may have guessed, Baker, that we want to accept your offer to help us," said Artemerio.

"Yes," said Baker. "And like I said, I am more than happy to do whatever I can. What can I do?"

Artemerio held a plate of the pinkish fruit toward Baker. "Please have some."

Baker took a bite and said, "Oh, that is exceptional! That is superb!" He took several more pieces. "That is the finest mercy and grace I have ever eaten." He helped himself to more of the fruit. "So perfect. So pure. You know, this would make an excellent cake."

"I am glad you think so," said Artemerio. "Using this fruit in your baking is exactly what we need you to do for us."

"Oh, absolutely!" said Baker. "It will be the best cake my dear wife ever made—and she has made some excellent cakes." He reached for more fruit.

"Not _a_ cake," said Artemerio. "Cakes. They can be small—or perhaps large cakes can be cut into small pieces—but what we need is for you to make cakes for the soldiers surrounding Lyton, for the people of Lyton, and for—"

"And?" said Baker, distracted from his next bite, which he held aloft.

"And for the people of Caston," said Artemerio. "We do not need to have the cakes all at once, although we do need as many as possible delivered in the next few days. But we will be satisfied with whatever you can give us. What do you think?"

Baker folded his hands together, propped his elbows on the table, and rested his chin on his hands. "Hmmm. Won't be a problem getting cake to the soldiers and the Lytonians. Maybe you could even give cake away here at the inn. I will take some to a few shops, as well. As for Caston, that city has a large celebration planned for tomorrow night. I refused to make cakes for it when they asked me to—I wanted no part of their celebration—but I can tell them I have changed my mind. It is the best way to get the most cake to the most people."

"So you will be able to help us with this huge request?" said Artemerio.

"Absolutely!" said Baker. "Joletta will be wonderfully pleased to be able to do so much. And we will have plenty of help for such a project. So there you go. But I really should get to work right away." He stood.

"The fruit is already in boxes," said Lady Mercy. "Servants are waiting only for a word to begin to load the many boxes onto your cart."

"Then, by all means, give them that word, good innkeeper," said Baker. He took another bite of the fruit. "Yes. Truly excellent. The cakes will be extraordinary." He turned to go.

"Just a moment, Baker," said Artemerio. "What sort of celebration is Caston having that you wanted no part of?"

"I do not know the details, but I know it is for Dunley." Baker's face started turning pink. "It all seems very dark. Dunley plans to execute some spy he captured—a woman, I think. If you ask me, any person Dunley wants to see dead is probably very much worth keeping alive, but, anyway, that is to happen at the end of the celebration."

"I have one more request," said Artemerio.

"Name it," said Baker.

"Will you sneak us back out of Lyton? We have disguises now that we could..." Artemerio grew silent in response to Baker's sudden frown.

"I am not unwilling," said Baker, "but you should know that the soldiers are being ever so much more careful now. Not even an extra helping of cake will be enough to distract them from the many questions they ask of people they do not recognize."

"Perhaps we could hide in boxes underneath all of the fruit," said Artemerio. "If the other boxes were stacked on top of us—"

Nodding slowly, Baker said, "Yes. Yes. That might work."

"But it might mean more trips back here for fruit," said Artemerio.

"Say no more," said Baker. "Consider it done."

# Chapter 18: Sneaking Out

Lady Mercy found large crates—long enough that Artemerio and I could lie flat in them—and she set to work preparing them for us—lining them with fabric so that we could not be seen through the slats. The three of us remained alone as she worked; she insisted that no servants know that the contents of the long crates would be any different than the others.

"You will need to be covered in fruit," said Lady Mercy. "Perhaps not your faces. But in that case, the crates must be positioned so that your heads are near the back and your feet are near the edge. I will direct the servants who position the crates in the cart." She sent for more fruit.

And then we took our places in the crates, and Lady Mercy set to work hiding us beneath the fruit. Before she covered us with the lids of the crates, she said, "I send you off with news that will encourage you. When the Great King sent me to Lyton, he told me to wait for you. A place had been prepared for me here as the temporary innkeeper. I was not to let anyone—other than the two of you—know I am Lady Mercy, and I was to wait for further instructions from the Great King. Not even your friend Baker could know who I am. But my instructions have changed. I heard a quiet whisper in my heart. Tomorrow my role as the innkeeper ends, and I am to go out to the people of Lyton, counseling mercy and speaking grace. Mercy will have a voice in Lyton now. I have been held back all this time—waiting, I suppose, until my words would do the most good, waiting until the people of Lyton had the best chance of listening and understanding. It is a very hopeful sign that this time has come. Be encouraged, Nobleman Barto and Nobleman Artemerio. You go in the name of the Great King."

"In the name of the Great King," Artemerio and I said.

Someone knocked a special knock on the door. Lady Mercy covered us with the lids. And then servants carried us away.

***

The soldiers stopped the cart to investigate its contents. They asked many questions—questions about Baker's purpose in traveling into and out of Lyton, questions about what the many boxes in the cart contained, and questions about whether he had seen any suspicious people during his travels—specifically two brothers. Then the soldiers began opening various boxes. But they stopped short of opening the crates that contained us. And then we were again on our way.

The next time we stopped, the cart was met by many young voices all talking excitedly—curious about why Baker's cart was so full when he had gone to town to make deliveries.

"Great-great-grandpa Baker, what have you brought us?" a very young voice exclaimed.

Baker laughed and answered that the boxes contained fruit for many, many cakes. Then the unloading began. And when only Artemerio and I remained in the cart, Baker and Joletta pried the lids off our crates and removed the fruit that covered us. Remarkably, none of the delicate fruit had been crushed in the long, bumpy ride.

"What is this place?" said Artemerio.

I too wondered where Baker had taken us. I had expected to see Baker's home, but instead, I saw a very large house I had never seen before. And I saw a multitude of carts and horses.

Baker laughed. "This is where we do all of our baking. Our home became much too small for all of this long ago. The many ovens alone fill entire rooms, never mind the tables and countertops and bowls and pans and spoons—oh, the spoons! You have never seen so many spoons in all your life, I am sure." He laughed again.

"I underestimated the magnitude of your work," said Artemerio. "And the size of your family."

People scurried about everywhere, stopping briefly to give us curious looks and then to say hello.

"How long will you be staying with us?" Baker asked quietly.

"Long enough to help you deliver some of the cakes—in disguise, of course—if you have no objections," said Artemerio.

"The disguises," said Baker, "they are not the servant uniforms you are now wearing, are they? I will help you, no matter—but perhaps something else might be arranged if these are the disguises you mean."

"No, these are not the disguises I mean. We have much better ones," said Artemerio.

"Then, yes—by all means. Of course you are welcome to stay and to help with the deliveries. Oh, yes—your bag." Baker retrieved the jester's bag from where he had kept it at his side during the trip and gave it to Artemerio. "Now, if you will excuse me...I must return to Lyton for more of the fruit."

***

Artemerio and I spent much of the day stirring, pouring, and baking along with Joletta and her family. We were not much help, however; the others had to save more than a few of our cakes from ruin. Baker made a few deliveries in Lyton during the early afternoon, but by evening we were ready for him to begin delivering cakes to the soldiers. And we were ready to go with him.

Artemerio put on a wild-haired, red wig for his disguise. It looked like the one the jester had worn as Jes, but nothing Artemerio did made it as wild and unruly as it had been on the jester. It did, however, make Artemerio look nothing like himself. To get the same sort of dramatic change, I had to put on a mask. It made me look much older, so I added a gray-haired wig. And we put on clothes we found in the jester's bag. I put on a shirt that was too large and pants that were too short. Artemerio put on clothes that fit well but that were quite ragged and wrinkled.

We rode with Baker as he delivered cakes to clusters of soldiers all around Lyton. The men gratefully and unquestioningly accepted the cakes from Baker. Though some stared at Artemerio and me curiously, no one asked who we were—no doubt in part because of our disguises and in part because we were not traveling into Lyton, but also because of the goodwill Baker had built up with the soldiers. Even though Baker was angry and disgusted with Dunley, he treated the soldiers with great kindness.

"Look at 'em," Baker would say again and again. "Poor things. They remind me of my great-great-grandsons—only my great-great-grandsons know better than to serve Dunley. These poor boys are powerfully deceived, they are. But maybe there is hope for them yet."

As Baker had said, Lyton was entirely surrounded by the soldiers. Delivering all of the cakes took well into the night. When we finished, Artemerio and I stayed near an encampment of soldiers and sent Baker back home.

"Thank you for your help," Artemerio whispered to Baker.

"Anytime!" whispered Baker. "Happy to be of service. Now I must get back to work." He signaled to the horses with the reins that it was time to go, and then the cart rolled forward, bearing him quickly away.

Artemerio and I crept as close as we could to the soldiers. We hoped to overhear conversations, and we wanted to know if the cake had begun to have any effect.

As we crouched behind a large rock and peered toward a group of soldiers standing guard, a rider galloped toward them and shouted, "Wake the camp!" He jumped off his horse and walked quickly toward the other soldiers. "The orders have come. We attack Lyton tomorrow night. We must wake the camp and begin preparations. What is this?" The soldier pointed to the remains of one of Baker's cakes. "Celebrating early?"

"No, sir," said a soldier who was standing guard. "Baker brought us a gift. Help yourself, sir."

A tall soldier with a dark brown mustache approached. He seemed to be an officer of some sort. "Excuse me, Soldier Bratis, but I am confused. Lyton is under the control of Dunley and his council. Why are we attacking? And whom are we attacking? Lyton has not rebelled against our presence, and the city has no soldiers. Just exactly what is supposed to happen here?"

The messenger, who had, indeed, helped himself to some of Baker's cake, saluted the officer. "Officer Martel, Dunley promised Caston total domination. Lyton has not rebelled because they do not know they have been conquered. We must overrun them while we have the chance. No one is to be spared. Those who survive the first day's attack will be the remnant Dunley gives to Caston."

"What?" Officer Martel exclaimed. "We are attacking men, women, and children—all unarmed?"

Soldier Bratis, who had taken another piece of cake, set down his fork. "Yes, that is correct." His voice sounded very weak. "What is happening to me? I feel...I feel..." He put his hands to his head and rubbed his temples. "What were you saying...men, women, and children? Yes, that is what Dunley said. But now I— How— How could we agree to such a thing? How could _I_ agree to such a thing?"

"We must stop this," said Officer Martel. "This has gone too far. Who else have you given this message to?"

"No one else. But other messengers besides me were sent," said Soldier Bratis.

"Well, we will send our own messengers to—" Officer Martel began.

"Officer Martel!" said a soldier. "Are you not forgetting, sir, that we are under orders? We must obey. We have a duty to Dunley."

"We are under orders," said Officer Martel, "but we owe no duty to Dunley. We are Castonians! And for us to do anything but defend the city of Caston is a violation of the oath we took as soldiers of Caston. Who is Dunley, anyway? Our duty is to Windsal and the king of Windsal." He looked up into the sky. "Why do I feel as if I am waking up from a bad dream? What has happened to us? We should not be here."

Most of the other soldiers rallied to Officer Martel, voicing their agreement. Those who disagreed shouted, "This is treason! Our duty is to Dunley!" The encampment divided along those lines, and even the soldiers who had just woken up quickly and passionately chose a side. The soldiers who were against attacking Lyton had to restrain the soldiers who were for it. They tied them up with ropes.

"What are your orders now, sir?" a soldier asked Officer Martel.

"We must stop the attack," said Officer Martel. "And we must learn who Dunley is and why he was able to so effectively manipulate us to accomplish his will."

Artemerio nudged me. "Now?" he whispered.

I nodded. We took off our disguises and put them back into the jester's bag. Artemerio and I came out from our hiding places and began walking toward the encampment.

"Stop!" someone shouted at us. "Raise your hands!"

We stopped and raised our hands.

"I can help you, Officer Martel," Artemerio said.

"Who are you?" said Officer Martel, his dark brown mustache twitching.

"That is not important," said Artemerio. "What is important is that I know what Dunley has been up to, and I can help you stop his plan. Caston and Lyton are both in great danger."

"Come with me." Officer Martel pointed to soldiers he wanted to accompany us, and then he led us into a nearby tent.

Two soldiers held swords to Artemerio's back, and two soldiers held swords to mine.

"Tell me what you know," said Officer Martel. "And, whether you think it is important or not, you will tell me who you are."

# Chapter 19: Soldiers of Caston

"I am aware of the plans of the Castonians to conquer Lyton and take for themselves what they feel they deserve," said Artemerio. "But Dunley intends for both Lyton and Caston to fall. To accomplish that end, he has used you—the soldiers of Caston—to surround Lyton and strengthen his control over that city."

"But...how? How was he able to use us?" said Officer Martel. "Until this evening, I followed him without question—so did all of the soldiers of Caston! How is that possible?"

"Dunley is a master of deception and manipulation," I said. "But I am curious why you are no longer under his control. What changed? Do you know?"

Officer Martel's expression softened. "I do not know what it was, exactly. But when I was eating dinner—enjoying cake, I believe—I realized I could not remember why we ever wanted to attack Lyton. I recalled how we had tricked the Lytonians into believing we were serving Dunley and protecting them. And I felt...guilty." He sighed. "When the messenger came with our orders to attack, I knew I could not obey. Obeying those orders felt like...like going a step too far. I had a strange feeling that once we did such a cruel, horrible thing, some invisible line would be crossed and all goodness would disappear." He sat silently for a moment. But then his expression became firm again. "I will ask the questions now. What else do you know?"

"Dunley only promised Lyton to you to trap you," said Artemerio.

"How do you know this?" said Officer Martel. "And who are you?" His tone was not harsh, but it expressed an inflexible resolve to discover whether we could be trusted.

"We overheard the council of Lyton discussing Dunley's plan," said Artemerio. "And I have seen enough of Dunley's work to know that despite whatever he has told you, he will only bring destruction, devastation, and chaos to you and Caston. But time is short, and, as I said, I can help you stop his plan."

"Very well," said Officer Martel. "You are still avoiding my question about who you are. But I will allow it. Go on—if time is so short, get to the point. How can we stop Dunley's plan?"

"Send messengers tonight to the other soldiers surrounding Lyton—to rally all you can to your side," said Artemerio. "You must convince them to give up any plans to attack Lyton, and you must prevent any of the soldiers who will not join you from escaping and getting word to Dunley or the council."

"I suppose you think we should withdraw from our positions and return to Caston?" said Officer Martel.

"No," said Artemerio. "Dunley must believe that you are still serving him until it is too late."

"Then you mean for us to attack Dunley?" said Officer Martel.

"Not Dunley, just his council. And not attack, just capture," said Artemerio. "There is a plan already in place to help Lyton. I cannot tell you much about it, I am afraid, but by tomorrow afternoon, if all goes well, the Lytonians too will become aware that they have been deceived by Dunley. Once the council members realize that they are losing control, they will try to escape—or they may attempt something desperate. Either way, the Lytonians will be powerless to stop them—and, again, Dunley must not find out that anything has changed in Lyton until it is too late for him to act. So the soldiers of Caston must capture the council."

Officer Martel was silent. He leaned back in his chair. "Assuming we were to try to capture the council, how would we know where to find the members? It is my understanding that they change the locations and times of their meetings, and no one knows where to find them except when they are deciding cases—which they probably will not be doing once things begin to change in Lyton as you have described."

"How do you receive orders? How do you communicate with the council? Is there some way for you to send messages to the council members?" I said.

"Yes," said Officer Martel, "we have a contact, but—"

"Then the council will tell you exactly where it will be meeting," said Artemerio.

"And why is that?" Officer Martel folded his arms across his chest, and the look he gave Artemerio implied that he was only humoring us in hearing us out. His mustache twitched slightly.

"Because you will send a messenger to your contact to tell the council that you have in your custody the brothers Dunley is looking for. And now I have stopped avoiding your question about who we are," said Artemerio.

Officer Martel stared at us, his astonishment evident. "You are the brothers? You must know that Dunley intends to kill you."

"Yes," said Artemerio.

Officer Martel continued staring at us until he finally said, "Release them," to the soldiers guarding us with their swords. "Breckley and Woodrin, ride to the north. Stinton and Ferlow, ride to the south. Take half of the camp with you. The message to the troops must go out tonight." He spoke to them privately outside the tent and then returned alone to talk to us.

"We will do what we can to help you," said Officer Martel. "I believe you when you say Caston is in danger—especially since, in sending so many of us to Lyton, Dunley has effectively emptied Caston of those who have sworn to defend the city. But now perhaps you can tell me what it is you have done that would make Dunley so desperate to kill you."

"We have met the Great King," I said. "Before that, Dunley seemed to be less interested in killing us and more interested in putting us to work for him—but who can say what he really wanted, even then."

"I still do not understand," said Officer Martel. "And I thought the Great King was just a myth. You are telling me you have met him?"

"Yes, and he is no myth," said Artemerio. "We can promise you that. Dunley hates us because he hates the Great King. He would do anything to separate the people of Windsal—the people of the world—from the Great King. He caused a city named Folpin to rebel against the Great King, luring them into his trap with the empty promises of magic. And he caused the people of another city—a city named Crevton—to turn away from the Great King through pride. He is causing this turning away in Caston now through envy. And he has blinded the people of Lyton with strife."

"But why does the Great King not stop Dunley?" said Officer Martel. "And why does he not force the people of Folpin and Crevton and Lyton and Caston to give up their wickedness?"

"The Great King would rather give us the choice to serve him than force us to obey him," said Artemerio.

Officer Martel still seemed perplexed. His mustache twitched slightly as he thoughtfully stared at us. "But why does Dunley hate the two of you so much in particular? I have heard his orders. I have seen his fierce anger when he speaks of you. There must be something more you have not told me."

"There is, but we are not at liberty to tell you," said Artemerio. "But Dunley hates everyone, including you—only he will not dare to show it while you might be useful to him."

Officer Martel, alarmed, looked up from the map he had spread open.

"We could tell you of some of our adventures, if you like," I said. "And of meeting the Great King."

Officer Martel nodded and moved aside to allow Artemerio to study his map.

"Here—Norin, that is where you will need to take the council members after they have been captured." Artemerio pointed out the city on the map, and we finished making plans for the following day.

And then Artemerio and I told Officer Martel of the Great King.

***

Day was dawning when the messengers returned. They came back with news that most of the soldiers of Caston had already decided not to go through with Dunley's plan to attack Lyton. The other soldiers were relieved to receive word from Officer Martel that they would once again be serving Caston, not Dunley, and they were ready to help stop Dunley's plan. Officers at the other encampments agreed unanimously that Officer Martel should take the lead.

After receiving that good news, Artemerio and I tried to sleep some, and Officer Martel readied a message for the council.

***

After we had finished our lunch, the council's reply came. Officer Martel was to meet with the council members two hours later at the inn to deliver us to them.

"Will you be coming with us?" Officer Martel asked Artemerio and me.

"No," said Artemerio. "You must go without us. Capture the council. Send troops with them to Norin. The council must appear before Lady Justice—she will know how to deal with them. In Lyton, find the woman I mentioned—Lady Mercy. Tell her—" Artemerio paused. "Tell her Nobleman Barto and Nobleman Artemerio sent you, and tell her what has happened. And after you talk with her, the rest of the troops must go to Caston."

"Nobleman Barto? Nobleman Artemerio?" Officer Martel looked at us questioningly and then bowed. "I had no idea. I would never have treated you—"

"I know," said Artemerio. "I only mention the titles now because that is how Lady Mercy addressed us. She will know your message is true if you refer to us that way. And now, Officer Martel, Barto and I should be on our way. We have much to do this afternoon."

"Of course, Nobleman Artemerio." Officer Martel bowed very formally, but then his face softened. "I remember there was a phrase my dear grandmother used. She served the Great King wholeheartedly. I wonder how I let all that she taught me slip away. But, anyway, the phrase—I...I will dare to use it again. I will dare to count myself among those who believe. Nobleman Artemerio, Nobleman Barto—we go in the name of the Great King."

"In the name of the Great King," said Artemerio.

***

Following Officer Martel's directions, Artemerio and I were able to hike in a wide circle around Lyton. But all of the indirect ways to Caston that Martel described were too complex and time-consuming for us to take. The risks of following the main road were preferable to the risks of becoming lost and arriving too late.

"It is too bad we could not have the troops meet us at the watchtower in Caston—or that we could not have asked Officer Martel to tell us about the watchtower and the dungeon," I said as Artemerio and I tentatively stepped onto the road. He was wearing the wild-haired, red wig again, and I had put on my mask and gray hair. We stayed as near to the trees alongside the road as we could.

"I agree, but it was too great of a risk to take. If no one knows where we are going, no one can be forced to tell Dunley what our plans are. But we told the soldiers that the woman being held as a spy in the watchtower is Lady Wisdom and that she is to be protected at all costs. We must trust that was enough."

A good distance behind us, I could hear the sounds of horses' hooves clomping and wheels turning. Artemerio and I stepped off the road and hid behind trees.

"Baker," I whispered to Artemerio as three carts passed. "Right on schedule with the cakes."

We stayed hidden a moment or two longer.

As we took our first steps onward to Caston, someone far ahead called out, "Stop!" The sounds of the carts stopped briefly but started again.

"Dunley must have soldiers guarding the way into Caston," said Artemerio. "I should have expected it. This will be a challenge."

Suddenly, I heard the sounds of branches snapping and of heavy footsteps rushing over forest ground. Soldiers emerged from the trees along either side of the road.

"If you value your lives, you will stop," said one of the soldiers.

Artemerio remained remarkably expressionless as we raised our hands in surrender.

"And this?" I whispered to him. "Another challenge?"

"Perhaps a challenge," said Artemerio, "or perhaps an opportunity."

"Silence!" shouted a soldier.

# Chapter 20: To the Dungeon

Four soldiers from each side of the road drew near. Two from each side had arrows aimed at us; the other two pointed swords toward us.

"We are soldiers of Caston," said one of the soldiers who was pointing a sword toward us and who seemed to be in command. "We are taking you straight to Dunley. Do not think of causing us any trouble. And I will take that." He roughly grabbed the jester's bag, which I had slung over my shoulder.

"Interesting, interesting," said Artemerio rapidly in a high-pitched, expressive, excited tone of voice. "You know, we just left a friend of ours a short distance back. Officer Martel. Do you serve with him? Is he a friend of yours? He and his men were having some sort of celebration with the most delightful cake. Are you celebrating something? Have you had any cake? Do you have any left you might be willing to share?"

"Awfully excitable," said the soldier in command. "Must be from Clifton."

The other soldiers laughed.

"Well?" said Artemerio. "Are you a friend of Martel? Are you? And do you have any cake?"

"Calm yourself," said the soldier in command. "There are many soldiers and many officers. I have heard of an Officer Martel, but, if I am not mistaken, he was sent to guard Lyton. I have been here, guarding Caston. I do not know Martel. And we have had no cake."

Imitating Artemerio, I altered my voice, as well. "No cake." I sighed. "What a pity."

"Yes, what a pity," said Artemerio.

"Cliftonians," said one of the soldiers.

Again the other soldiers laughed.

***

Once we entered Caston, the soldiers blindfolded us. I tried to keep track of all of the times we turned right or left, but either the route to Dunley was complicated, or else the soldiers deliberately tried to disorient us. The turns were sudden and frequent—too numerous to keep track of.

After a steep climb up an unthinkable number of steps, we reached our destination, and a soldier removed our blindfolds. Dunley's face was the first image I saw. I looked away from him, fearing eye contact might give away my identity. I pretended to be interested in various pieces of furniture in the room, which was as lavishly decorated as any room in Folpin had been.

"We found these men on the road to Caston," said the soldier in command. "They seem harmless, but you said to bring all travelers to you."

"Yes, Officer Praton." Dunley stared at us.

I cringed and cowered, trying to make myself look shorter. Artemerio shuffled from one foot to the other and repetitively scratched at his wild red hair in a manner that looked like a nervous habit. I hoped we would not have to speak; I was certain Dunley would recognize our voices, even if they were disguised.

At last Dunley averted his penetrating stare. "No. These are not the brothers I am looking for."

"Then they are free to go?" said the soldier.

"Yes. Take them out of my sight." Dunley waved us toward the door. But we had only taken a few steps when he said, "On second thought...I need more spies to execute at the celebration. Take them to the dungeon in the watchtower, and let them wait with the woman."

The soldiers blindfolded us again and marched us out of the room, guiding us with the points of their swords.

***

As we walked along the cobblestone streets, I heard the sound of music and of a large crowd. I also smelled the delicious smell of cake.

"Is Baker here? I thought he did not want any part in the celebration," said one of the soldiers.

"All I know is that he has been making deliveries for the last few hours," said Officer Praton.

"I am glad he changed his mind," said a soldier to my right. "There is nothing so delicious in all the world as his cakes." He took a deep breath. "The smell is so strong, I can practically taste it."

Artemerio sighed. "Such a shame that that Dunley fellow means to execute us. Would you be willing to stop and get us some cake, Officer Praton? Would you? It might be our last meal, after all. And your men could get a bit of cake for themselves, too."

No one answered right away.

But then one of the soldiers said, "He made a good point, sir—do you not think so? What harm could there be in stopping for some cake? Especially if it is their last meal?"

"And this may be our last chance to have some cake before it is gone," said a soldier directly behind me. "Baker's cakes never last long in a crowd of Castonians."

"And we will be guarding the prisoners the whole time. And we are still on our way to the watchtower," said a soldier on the other side of Artemerio. "Surely Dunley could have no objections."

"This is quite inappropriate. We have our orders." Officer Praton's tone was firm and reproachful. "Of course Dunley would have objections to—" He fell silent, sniffing. "But...who can resist Baker's cakes? Very well, men. Stop. Soldier Rufol and Soldier Seril, go fetch us all some cake."

***

One of the soldiers placed a bulging napkin full of cake in my hands.

"Think I will save it for later," I said, slipping it into a pocket in my cloak.

"Suit yourself," said the soldier, "but later may be too late for you."

And then the soldiers were silent—except for eating sounds and exclamations of delight.

A moment later, one of the soldiers said, "It really is a shame that Dunley plans to execute these two. The woman is a spy. But these two harmless fellows were just wandering down the road toward Caston. Does it seem...wrong, somehow?"

"Now that you mention it," said Officer Praton, "I was just wondering why we were taking orders from Dunley, anyway. We are soldiers of Caston!"

"My thoughts, exactly," said another soldier.

As we all walked toward the dungeon, the soldiers continued discussing their doubts about Dunley and their confusion as to why the people of Caston ever wanted to attack Lyton in the first place.

"What has happened to us?" said one of the soldiers. "I feel such a sense of warning in my heart—like we are heading for—for ruin under Dunley's control."

"But what can we do?" said a soldier in front of me. "We are vastly outnumbered. Dunley will easily defeat us if we oppose him."

"Perhaps. But we must let these poor fellows go," said Officer Praton.

I no longer felt the point of a sword in my back.

"No," said Artemerio in his normal voice.

I took off my blindfold.

Artemerio had removed his blindfold and was facing the soldiers. "There is something else you can do."

The soldiers moved in closer and again aimed swords and arrows at us.

"Why do you sound different? What— Who are you?" said Officer Praton.

"That is not important," said Artemerio. "Just trust that I am an enemy of Dunley and a friend of Caston. If you meant what you said—if you want to protect Caston from Dunley—you will listen to what I have to say."

"Go on. Speak," said Officer Praton. "What did you mean there is something else we can do? What can we do?"

The soldiers kept their weapons trained on us.

"Take us to the dungeon, just as you planned," said Artemerio. "The woman being held there is not a Lytonian spy, and we must help her escape. After that, go back into Caston and watch for the Castonian troops that have been stationed around Lyton. You are not alone, as you think. The other soldiers are coming to liberate Caston from Dunley's control. You can help them."

"We can take you to the dungeon," said Officer Praton, "but there are other soldiers standing guard there. They will not let the woman out—and they will insist that you be put in."

"Can you and your soldiers take their places guarding us for the night?" said Artemerio.

Officer Praton shook his head emphatically. "No. Dunley brought in special soldiers to guard the woman. They answer only to Dunley. No soldiers from Caston are on duty at the watchtower any longer at all."

"We must get into that dungeon," said Artemerio firmly. "Deliver us to the guards at the watchtower. Then go back and help the other Castonian soldiers."

"Are you sure about this?" said Officer Praton. "Escape from the watchtower dungeon is practically impossible."

"I am sure," said Artemerio. "We must take our chances in the dungeon. But see what you can do about getting us put near the woman."

Artemerio and I put our blindfolds back on and let the soldiers march us the rest of the way to the watchtower. As we neared our destination, I once again felt a sword pointed at my back.

From where we stood waiting outside the watchtower, I could hear most of the conversation Officer Praton had with the main guard. Officer Praton informed the guard that we were two additional spies Dunley had discovered and that we were to be put in the same cell as the other spy.

When Officer Praton returned, he removed our blindfolds, whispered that he wished us well, and then said in a loud, angry voice, "You two, get in there! Come on! Quickly!"

The guards in the watchtower had the look of Folpinian guards, cruel and miserable. They followed the Castonian soldiers as they marched us down the steps to the dungeon.

Lady Wisdom stood in her cell, watching us approach.

"In there." Officer Praton nudged Artemerio toward Lady Wisdom's cell, which a Folpinian guard had opened. "These prisoners are not to be mistreated. Am I understood? Dunley wants them alive and well."

"Yes, sir." The guard slammed the cell door shut behind us.

Then the soldiers and guards climbed the steps and left the dungeon.

"Are we alone?" Artemerio whispered. "No other prisoners? No guards?"

"Yes," said Lady Wisdom. "The dungeon contains no other prisoners. Dunley fears my influence on them. And the guards remain upstairs for a similar reason. I am surprised you have been allowed near me. But I suppose— Does Dunley intend to kill you?"

"He does," I whispered.

"Do not worry," said Lady Wisdom calmly. "I will protect you."

"Protect _us_?" Artemerio said. "But Lady Wisdom, we have come to save _you_."

"Artemerio?" said Lady Wisdom. "Is that you?" She stared at his wild hair and then looked closely at his face. "I recognize the voice, but—" She looked at me. "Barto?"

I nodded.

"Where did you get these disguises? I would never have known it was you." Lady Wisdom studied our faces carefully.

"The jester," I said.

"Of course," said Lady Wisdom. "So you have come to rescue me? How shall we escape?"

"I admire your bravery, Lady Wisdom," said Artemerio, "but before we discuss what is to happen, I must know how you are. Are you hurt? Has Dunley done anything to harm you? How were you captured?"

"Please do not worry about me," said Lady Wisdom. "I am not hurt. This was all part of the plan."

"Part of the plan?" said Artemerio. "But I thought you were in danger. The Great King sent me to save you."

"You are supposed to save me. But Dunley could never have kidnapped me if I had not allowed it—and I had to allow it to save _you_ —to provide time for you to make the trip to Lagal to meet the Great King. But now—tell me, what is your plan?" said Lady Wisdom.

Artemerio took a bulging napkin full of cake out of his cloak pocket. "Cake."

"Yes, please," said Lady Wisdom. "I am very hungry. But quickly—what is your plan? The guards may return for us at any time."

"You are hungry?" Artemerio held the cake toward her. "Take as much as you like. But I am trying to tell you that cake is our plan."

# Chapter 21: Swords

"Cake?" Lady Wisdom sounded amused.

"Have a bite," said Artemerio.

Lady Wisdom obligingly tasted the cake. Her eyes brightened. "Mercy and grace?"

"Yes. I will explain." Artemerio gestured toward a rickety wooden bench.

Lady Wisdom and Artemerio sat together on the bench, and I sat, with some hesitation, on a chair with uneven legs and an unattached seat. Artemerio told Lady Wisdom about Lady Mercy and Baker, about Officer Martel and the Castonian troops, and about the celebration in Caston that night that was to end with our executions.

"Unfortunately," said Artemerio, "the watchtower guards are not Castonian. The ones I saw looked Folpinian. I doubt that they have the same taste for Baker's cake that the Lytonians and Castonians have."

"Indeed they do not," said Lady Wisdom. "Though the cake would certainly do them some good, they would not dare to taste it. These guards are Dunley's most obedient servants—they enjoy their wickedness and will do nothing that might risk that enjoyment."

"Then I am glad I had not put much hope in an escape from this dungeon using cake." Artemerio paused. "What I have in mind requires us all to take a great risk."

"Go on," said Lady Wisdom. "I am not afraid of risk."

"But I am afraid of it for you," said Artemerio. "What I have in mind requires that we give up whatever opportunities we have to escape. I would do all in my power—including fighting the Folpinian guards to the death—to deliver you from this dungeon, Lady Wisdom. But I have a sense that the Great King has something else in mind for us—that a larger purpose is to be served by these circumstances that now seem so difficult." He studied Lady Wisdom's face.

She nodded, her intrigue apparent in her eyes.

Artemerio continued. "Dunley wants a well-attended execution for us. So here is my plan. We will let the guards take us to that very crowded event, and then, Lady Wisdom, you will speak. You will call out to the people—as you did in Crevton. Mercy will set the people of Caston free from their envy and heartlessness toward Lyton, but you will give the people truth and open their eyes to the way Dunley has used them. I think the people will rise up on the spot, demand our release, and run Dunley out of town. Officer Martel and the Castonian soldiers will fight to protect us, if need be, as well. And perhaps you will even succeed in persuading a Folpinian guard or two to abandon the hopelessness of devotion to Dunley." Artemerio paused.

In a softer voice, he continued. "But even if the people do not rise up, even if Officer Martel arrives too late to help us, I still firmly believe that we must give the people of Caston every chance we can to hear truth and to choose life and freedom over Dunley. I think that is why the Great King sent us here. Any victory the people of Caston gain over Dunley will be temporary. Mercy may turn the people's hearts from him for now, but no virtue—no goodness—apart from the Great King is lasting.

"Dunley will come back, and when he does, he may find the Castonians as easy to manipulate and deceive as he did this time. So the people must have truth. Lady Wisdom, you must tell the people of Caston about the Great King. Remind those who have forgotten; teach those who do not know. Share your wisdom with them." Artemerio paused again. "But the Great King told me to save you. If you think this is folly or disobedience, I will find another way to rescue you."

Lady Wisdom reached over and clasped one of Artemerio's hands. "This is neither folly nor disobedience. You have left those far behind, I see." She smiled. "The Great King told you to save me, but he told me to save his people. Caston and Lyton both are dangerously close to forgetting their histories and turning away from the Great King. Lady Mercy will do her work in Lyton, and I will do mine here. What you have suggested shows a right understanding of the Great King's heart. And of mine. I am with you, Artemerio, whatever the risk."

"Then I could not ask for a better companion," said Artemerio. "I will not waste the opportunity I now have to express my...appreciation—no. I mean yes, but more than that. My fondness—" He paused. "No, more than that. My affection? My adoration?" He stared at Lady Wisdom in silence. "You deserve an eloquent speech, Lady Wisdom, full of perfect, lovely words. But eloquence seems to be escaping me at the moment. All I can think to say is that I dare not imagine that I will ever deserve your fondness or affection. But you have mine—wholeheartedly—unreservedly. And my respect...and admiration."

A slight blush colored Lady Wisdom's cheeks. "You think a man who has engineered the daring rescue of two cities using only cake—a man who has chosen to risk his own life to deliver an imperiled city from destruction—a man who has offered to defend me in a battle to the death—does not deserve my highest regards?" She held his gaze for a moment and then released his hand and turned to me. "But you, Barto—despite your brother's words, which praised me so kindly but slighted you—you are an equally worthy companion in facing the risks that lie ahead for us all."

"Oh, yes. Barto—of course," said Artemerio.

Though I detected no insincerity in his affirmation of Lady Wisdom's compliment, I could see from the look on his face that Lady Wisdom was far and away his preferred companion. And I had to hide a very amused smile.

"Thank you, Lady Wisdom." I happened to think just then of the cake I still had in the pocket of my cloak. I took it out, and the three of us shared it.

Then Artemerio and I spent the rest of the time, as we waited for the guards to come for us, telling Lady Wisdom about the journey from Crevton to Lagal.

***

When the guards came for us, they bound our hands with ropes and loaded us into an open cart to take us to where Dunley waited. Darkness had fallen, and I could see the lights of fires and hear the sound of music even as far out on the edge of the city as the watchtower was. I pulled my arms inside my cloak and rubbed the rope against the edge of my sword, trying not to attract the attention of the guards marching beside the cart. When the rope fell off, I kept my hands together but turned to let Artemerio see that my hands were free. He nodded and showed me that his hands were also free.

Dunley had a stage set up in the center of a sprawling marketplace, and he was standing on the stage giving a speech. Thousands of Castonians filled the streets, listening to his dangerous words.

Castonian soldiers formed a barrier between the stage and the people. When the soldiers saw the guards struggling to drive the cart through the heavily crowded streets, a few of them quickly moved to clear a path. They escorted the cart all the way to the edge of the stage. Among the soldiers clearing a path for us, I saw Officer Martel.

The Castonian soldiers attempted to escort us onto the stage, but the Folpinian guards would not allow it. From the way the guards continuously scanned the crowd, it seemed they expected trouble. Three of the guards, swords drawn, walked us up the steps to the stage.

As we stepped onto the stage, Dunley said, "And now, good people of Caston, you will see swift and sure justice done to these—your enemies. Here we have three Lytonian spies. They have lived here among you and pretended to be your friends and neighbors as they secretly plotted your destruction."

The crowd gasped. People all around the stage began whispering to each other.

Dunley seemed pleased by the reaction. "When you first welcomed me to your marvelous city, I promised you I would do great things for you. When you told me how you had suffered at the hands of the Lytonians, how they had kept you from becoming all that you could be, and how they enjoyed the riches and wealth you deserved, I promised to deliver the city of Lyton into your hands. Well, excellent citizens of Caston, you witness here the beginning of the fulfillment of that promise. Here on this stage, you will get to see the first drops of Lytonian blood spilled."

Dunley's voice grew louder. "I offer you, worthy citizens of Caston, this payment for all of your suffering in the past. I offer you, good citizens of Caston, justice for your enemies. I offer you, glorious citizens of Caston, this foundation on which to build your empire!"

A dark heaviness settled over the city—the same sort of dark heaviness that fell when Artemerio and I had been with Dunley by his statue in Lyton. Evil whispers of despair, fear, hate, and violence filled the air—whispers not from the people of Caston, but from some invisible, nameless force. A Lagalian phrase formed in my mind, and I began to speak it under my breath. The evil whispers stopped, but the heaviness remained.

Dunley pulled a long sword out of its sheath and pointed it at Lady Wisdom. "The time has come," he said to her with a look of pure evil in his eyes and a fiendish smile on his face.

Someone in the crowd screamed, but otherwise the people of Caston watched in silence.

Dunley drew back the sword to strike Lady Wisdom, but in an instant, Artemerio had pulled out his own sword and jumped in front of her. I hurried to her side and cut the ropes binding her hands.

People in the crowd rushed toward the stage, but Officer Martel and the Castonian troops held them back. They also held back the Folpinian guards.

Artemerio pulled off his red-haired wig and said, "You have no authority here anymore, Dunley. I claim this city on behalf of the Great King."

Dunley stared at Artemerio in amazement, but his look of surprise quickly turned to a look of burning fury. "Even better. Lady Wisdom was just a pawn. You are the prize." He lunged at Artemerio.

Artemerio struck Dunley's sword with his own, and Dunley's sword immediately shattered. The force of the blow knocked Dunley off his feet. I moved in to corner him, but Dunley disappeared.

The dark heaviness lifted.

"Where did he go?" Artemerio stared into the crowd.

I pulled off my mask and wig and turned in a circle, searching for any sign of Dunley. But I knew what I had seen. "He did not go anywhere. He simply vanished."

# Chapter 22: To the Watchtower

Lady Wisdom moved to the center of the stage and began to speak. "People of Caston, be at peace! We are not your enemies, and neither are the people of Lyton. Dunley spoke only lies. What harm has Lyton done to you? What right does one city of Windsal have to attack another? Examine your own hearts—have you not acted out of envy? But it is not too late for you. Remember the mercy of the Great King, and know that tonight you have been spared from destruction at the hand of Dunley—destruction you chose for yourselves when you willingly turned away from what you knew to be right. So come—listen to me, people of Caston, and learn to be wise. Learn to choose life and freedom over destruction and death."

I sensed the familiar fragrance of wisdom wafting over me. The fragrance spread out from the stage in a soothing wave, and soon the frantic motion of the crowd stilled.

Lady Wisdom turned to Artemerio and me and said softly, "Thank you for your help. You have accomplished what you were sent to do. You have saved me—and the people of Caston and Lyton. Now you must return to the king." She nodded toward a man near the stage whose face was concealed by the hood of his cloak.

The man returned the nod and moved nimbly and quickly toward the stairs.

"The jester?" I whispered.

"Yes," she said.

Artemerio took hold of Lady Wisdom's hand. "Will I see you again?"

"You will," said Lady Wisdom. "But now I have much to do here, and you must go." She smiled. "The time has come." She stepped away from us and spoke toward the crowd. "Come to me, and I will tell you ancient truths your people have forgotten."

Artemerio and I made our way toward the jester, who was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs.

"Nobleman Barto and Nobleman Artemerio." The jester bowed. "A ship is waiting for us at the port city of Nolgin. We must leave tonight. Follow me."

We followed the jester through the crowd, down many winding streets, and back toward the watchtower.

As we approached the tower, I noticed that the well-armed soldiers guarding the bridge and the entrance to the tower were not those who had stood guard before.

"Those are not Folpinian guards," I said.

"No," said the jester. "They came with me."

"But they appear to be the king's own guards," said Artemerio. "Has something happened? Where is the king?"

"Much has happened. But all of Dunley's efforts have failed. The king is safe." The jester nodded to the soldiers as we crossed the bridge and entered the watchtower.

The soldiers all saluted him.

"And I see that the two of you were well able to accomplish the task set before you. Lady Wisdom has been rescued. Lyton and Caston have been saved. All that was left for me to do was to run the Folpinian guards out of the watchtower. But what is this I hear about cake? Never mind. There will be time for the story later." The jester moved nimbly and quickly through the halls, gathering the soldiers who were to come with us and giving instructions to those who would be staying behind.

Then the jester stopped walking and looked first at Artemerio and then at me. "You will need disguises—uniforms." He nodded toward a soldier near him, and the soldier left. "You should have a bite of dinner, as well. We are two hours away from Nolgin, and we will not be stopping until we reach the ship."

Two soldiers entered the room, each one carrying a complete uniform—like the uniforms worn by the soldiers.

"Get changed. I will have food sent to you," said the jester.

The soldiers handed the uniforms to Artemerio and me, saluted, and turned away sharply. They followed the jester out of the room.

"I never knew jesters were so important," Artemerio said quietly.

***

Artemerio and I changed and ate quickly while the jester finished giving orders to the soldiers. We had hardly taken our last bites when the jester hurried us toward the door.

"I apologize, but we really must leave now," he said.

We followed a group of the well-armed soldiers out of the watchtower and back across the bridge. But an even larger group of soldiers followed us. They streamed out of the watchtower, and I guessed that there might easily be a hundred men.

"Are you expecting trouble?" Artemerio quietly asked the jester.

"No. But it is the unexpected trouble that is usually the worst. We are prepared for that kind of trouble. I understand you have had no training as soldiers, but please—do try to imitate those around you. No one must guess you are not one of them."

The Windsalian soldiers, marching in loose lines, had us surrounded. And beyond the Windsalian soldiers, I could see other soldiers, though the word _soldiers_ does not describe them accurately. They were warriors, and they towered several feet above the tallest Windsalian I had ever seen.

"Who are they?" I whispered to the jester.

"Who?" he whispered in return.

"The warriors surrounding the Windsalian troops—surely you see them."

"Yes, I do, but I am surprised you do. They are warriors from Lagal. The Great King has sent them. You have had one or two with you most of the way. They have only come out in such force for this last part of the journey—for the unexpected trouble."

"Are they...are they...guarding us?" said Artemerio, incredulously.

"Yes," said the jester. "But now I must warn you: we should speak no more until we have reached the ship."

Darkness filled in the spaces between the trees around us, making them appear to be leafy walls lining the dirt road. In the light from the torches the soldiers carried, I could see the soldiers diligently examining the road and the trees beside us for any signs of trouble.

We walked the great distance to Nolgin in silence, as the jester had advised. The air, heavy with dampness and the smell of fish, told me we were near the sea long before I began to hear the rhythmic sound of waves in the distance.

We continued on until we reached a deserted dock on the outskirts of the city. By the light of the torches, I could see that the ship in front of us was as ready for battle as the soldiers escorting us were. Two more of the king's ships were docked nearby. One I recognized. It was the _Lady Lucinda_. The other beyond it, the _Reliance_ , looked to be an exploring vessel of some sort.

"Wait here." The jester nodded to a few of the soldiers—six, to be exact. Three strongly resembled Artemerio, and three strongly resembled me. They paired off. Other soldiers then surrounded each of the three pairs and escorted them onto the three ships.

"Fall into line and board the warship before you—the _Peacemaker_ ," the jester whispered to Artemerio and me. He then ordered the remaining soldiers to their ships.

Artemerio and I joined the soldiers boarding the _Peacemaker_. The jester followed after us, and the warriors from Lagal all came with us.

Once we reached the deck, the jester whispered, "Follow me," and then led Artemerio and me to the cabin we would share. "Keep the door bolted, and answer it only for me. I shall knock like this." He demonstrated a special knock. "And even then—have your sword at the ready. I will return." With no further words, he left us.

***

Artemerio lay on the top bunk, and I sat on the bottom bunk in our tiny cabin as we waited for the jester to return. We had discussed our theories on what might be going on for so long that neither one of us wanted to say any more. Artemerio thought that the jester must have learned of a serious plan by Dunley to kill us.

"And his other plans were not serious?" I said. I thought the jester might be trying to protect the king from Dunley by hiding the timing of our arrival.

"But that would mean this was all for show," said Artemerio, "and I doubt those Lagalian warriors make appearances just for show."

When Artemerio and I heard the jester's knock, we sprang toward the door.

"You must tell us what is going on," said Artemerio. "Why did we need such a well-armed and sizeable escort out of Caston? And why are there two other ships? And soldiers pretending to be us?"

"And why the rush to return us to the king?" I said.

"And is Lady Wisdom safe?" said Artemerio.

The jester remained silent as he bolted the door behind him. His face looked especially serious. "Tomorrow you will disguise yourselves and serve as crew members in the galley. I will use the same knock when I come for you. And the code word you must ask for is _Roin_." He tossed a satchel to me. "Disguises." The jester stared at us. "I will answer your last question. Lady Wisdom is safe. But all I will tell you to answer your other questions is that the time has come. Good night." He left us.

"The time has come." Artemerio repeated the words with a quizzical frown. "Were those not Dunley's words to Lady Wisdom? And Lady Wisdom's words to me?"

"They were," I said.

# Chapter 23: At Sea

In the morning, I put on a curly, blond wig, and Artemerio chose a hairpiece that made him look mostly bald but for a fringe of reddish-blond hair. And we dressed as soldiers.

At the jester's knock, I unbolted the door. But instead of the jester, a tall, dark-bearded man stood on the other side.

"Oh—uh—yes, do you need something?" I braced one foot against the door and prepared to shut it quickly.

"Roin," said a voice that sounded like the jester's. "Come with me."

Artemerio and I followed the jester to the galley. After a quick breakfast, we were put to work clearing away the remnants in the fireplaces from the previous night's fires. Then we were put to work peeling vegetables and preparing for later meals. From there we were sent to mop the deck and to shine various decorative metal railings.

After a long day of chores, we were dismissed to return to our quarters. The jester, who had worked alongside us most of the day, escorted us back to our cabin.

"I will come for you again in the morning. We should all change our disguises. And the new code word is _Baker_. Disregard the previous code word." The jester opened the door. "Bolt this." Nimbly and quickly he slipped out.

Artemerio slid the bolt into place. Only then did we hear the jester's footsteps moving away from our door.

"I have a feeling there is something very serious he is not telling us," said Artemerio.

***

In the morning, as I dug through the bag of disguises, I discovered several pieces of fruit. They were light green and round, almost like limes.

"What is this?" I held a piece of the fruit up questioningly.

Artemerio took it and turned it over in his hands. "I suppose it must be the jester's." He smelled it. "I do not recognize the scent." He tossed it back to me. "But he will be here any moment—and we are not at all prepared."

I pulled out a dark wig with a very short ponytail. Artemerio decided on a short-haired, dark wig and a fake nose.

We had just finished disguising ourselves when the jester's knock sounded.

A man with a long, blond-colored beard and an eye patch stood outside the door. "Baker." He eyed our disguises approvingly. "Come along."

When we arrived in the galley, the man in charge, Officer Luru, was shouting out orders and pointing wildly in all directions to crew members who seemed to be one step behind him and quite confused.

"No, no, no!" he said to a tall soldier with a scar on one cheek. "I said slice the potatoes." He grabbed the man by his sleeve and led him to the potatoes. "Like this!" He gave an exaggerated demonstration. Then he turned to Artemerio and me and pointed. "You and you—help him."

We joined the man at the table and began slicing the vast supply of potatoes. As we sliced, the man with the scar watched Luru carefully, tracking Luru's every movement as Luru assigned tasks to those in the galley and darted from spot to spot correcting errors.

When Luru stopped to lecture a mystified soldier on the proper way to ladle broth, the man with the scar mumbled quickly, "I shall fetch more potatoes." With a parting glance toward Luru, whose attention was still occupied by the subject of broth, the man slipped away from the table and toward the cargo hold where the food supplies were kept.

Acting on a vague feeling of concern, I turned to follow him.

"Where are you going?" whispered Artemerio.

"To help with the potatoes."

"But we need no potatoes."

"Yes—I know." I hurried toward the cargo hold.

Creaking boards gave away my approach. The scarred man stood from where he had been kneeling near sacks of flour. But I saw him hide something in his pocket as he stood and looked toward me.

"I could not find the potatoes," said the man.

I pointed. "Over there."

We each took armloads of potatoes and returned to the galley.

I had only just returned when Luru came up behind me.

"Quickly—you must stir the stew!" Officer Luru grabbed my sleeve and led me to a stove. He handed me a large spoon and turned away. "Ah—you there! You must prepare the pots!" Off he rushed to usher along the preparation of the pots.

The scarred man sidled up to the stove. "I have been sent to add the spices." He held a small vial above the stew I was stirring.

"But—" I began.

"What is this!" Luru had crept up behind us unnoticed.

A few drops from the vial fell into the stew.

"Do not be careless with seasonings and spices!" Luru grabbed my spoon and dipped it into the mysterious mixture in front of me.

"My apologies, sir." The scarred man slowly began moving away from the stove.

"You did not tell him to add anything?" I said to Luru.

"No." Officer Luru lifted the spoon to his lips to take a taste.

"Stop!" I grabbed the spoon from Luru.

"What are you doing?" Luru grabbed the spoon back.

The scarred man began to run.

"Stop him!" I shouted.

Artemerio dove and tackled the man around his knees.

"Guards!" the jester shouted.

Three apron-clad soldiers, two who had been peeling potatoes and one who had been working with some kind of meat, leapt toward the scarred man. They bound his hands and stood him up. Then they saluted the jester.

"Where should we take him?" one asked. He handed the jester the vial the scarred man had dropped during the scuffle.

"The room on the lower level." The jester stared at the vial as the crew members led the scarred man away.

"What is this all about?" Officer Luru scowled. He turned his attention to the stew and began stirring.

"Poison," said the jester.

Luru glanced at the jester. "Poison?"

The jester took off his wig, beard, and eye patch. Then he held up the vial. "Poison. Do not taste anything. Do not serve anything. No one eats anything from the galley until I say it is safe. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Officer Luru saluted the jester. Then he stared wonderingly at the stew and set aside his spoon.

The jester dismissed all of us in the galley and ordered us to our cabins.

***

The jester came to our cabin some time later, undisguised. "The scarred man was a servant of Dunley and confessed to his wicked plan to poison the food. But beyond the confession, we cannot, of course, trust at all what he said regarding how much of the food he was able to poison or regarding whether he was working alone. So you must eat and drink nothing, I am afraid, until we reach Truscella. And you must be vigilant in watching for suspicious behavior from those around you."

"But what was his purpose in poisoning the food?" I said.

"Is a man named Vestero aboard?" said Artemerio.

"Vestero? Why do you ask?" said the jester.

"The council that met at the inn at Lyton spoke of him—viciously and with many threats. One particular councilman spoke at great length on the many kinds of poison he would like to use on Vestero. I thought perhaps the poisoning might be meant for him," said Artemerio.

"Vestero is perfectly safe," said the jester. "The poisoner's target was you, Artemerio."

"The fruit in the satchel," I said with some alarm. I retrieved the bag of disguises and took out the fruit to show the jester, stunned to see that the amount had increased since I had first discovered it. "Perhaps this was meant to harm Artemerio, as well."

"You found this among the disguises?" The jester held a piece of the fruit in his hand and studied it carefully.

"Yes. So it does not belong to you, then? Could someone have snuck it in before you gave the disguises to us? Or perhaps while we were away from this cabin?" I said.

"Impossible." The jester tossed the fruit to me. "Cut into it. There should be a small dagger in the satchel—in a sheath."

I found the knife and cut into the fruit. On the inside, it was a deep red, the color of raspberries.

"Yes—just as I hoped." The jester smiled. "Take a taste."

I cut off a small piece for myself and another for Artemerio. Of all of the fruit I had tasted, this was the richest and the sweetest.

"Is that—" I took another bite. "Humility?"

"Yes," said the jester. "A very rare, very precious fruit."

"But where did it come from?" said Artemerio.

The jester laughed. "Can you not guess?"

"I am certain it is yours, Artemerio," I said. "You are going to be king, and you know it. And you have carried that knowledge with you since we left Lagal, but it has not affected you at all. You have worn all kinds of ridiculous disguises, allowed yourself to be imprisoned in a dungeon, risked death to save Lady Wisdom and the Castonians, and even submitted to Officer Luru's many demands in the galley—and all without so much as a single complaint or muttered reference to the throne you will someday occupy."

"But it could very well be yours, Barto, I—" A curious look came over Artemerio's face. He reached for the satchel. The pieces of fruit we had taken out had already been replaced. The sides of the satchel bulged. "Might there be enough here for the whole crew? I expect we will not reach Truscella before tomorrow morning. This fruit could sustain the others through the many hours that are left, could it not?" He looked at the jester.

"It could," said the jester.

A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. The jester unsheathed his sword. He motioned for us to stay back, and then he opened the door. A Lagalian warrior stood outside.

"I have a message concerning Folasade," the warrior said.

# Chapter 24: A King

The jester stepped out into the hall with the warrior and closed the door.

"Folasade?" said Artemerio.

But we did not have time to discuss the unfamiliar name before the jester opened the door and rejoined us.

"What is happening?" I said.

"All is well," said the jester. "But I will say no more. Come—we should do as Artemerio has suggested."

The supply of fruit proved to be more than enough for all aboard—not just for the noontime meal but for the evening meal, as well.

And then, well before I expected it, night returned and brought with it a joyful anticipation of our arrival in Truscella the next day.

The jester came to our cabin and gave us each a small, neatly folded bundle of clothing.

"Our clothes from Lagal?" said Artemerio. "But we left them with Lady Mercy at the inn when we donned the disguises she gave us."

"So she told me," said the jester. "I retrieved these from her—thoughtfully washed and pressed for you—upon my return to Lyton. Tomorrow morning you must be bathed and dressed in these clothes by sunrise."

"Bathed?" said Artemerio. "Well, I suppose we _are_ going to see the king."

The jester smiled a smile that gradually gave way to a laugh. "Indeed you are!"

***

We watched from the deck the next morning as the ship drew nearer and nearer to land—to Truscella. The other two ships had already arrived: the _Lady Lucinda_ and the _Reliance_ were tied up and seemed to be empty of all but a few soldiers. The men from our ship called out to the workers on the dock, and soon the _Peacemaker_ was securely nestled in her own spot.

"You will be going straight to see the king," said the jester as he nimbly and quickly led us down the ship's ramp and onto the dock.

Soldiers and Lagalian warriors surrounded us.

"You will travel in the carriage over there." The jester pointed.

"The king's carriage?" I said.

The jester chuckled inexplicably. "Yes."

"You are not coming with us?" said Artemerio.

"No. There is Estillo." The jester nodded toward where the black horse was waiting. "And now I must go take my place at the king's side. I am, after all, the jester." He laughed as if he had told a clever joke, and then, still laughing, he bowed. "Nobleman Barto and Nobleman Artemerio—or Nobleman Artemerio and Nobleman Barto—however you like the names to go—the time has come!"

Artemerio and I watched as the jester nimbly and quickly made his way toward the horse, who had begun to neigh and stamp his feet upon catching sight of the jester.

The jester looked back at us and waved before he swung himself up into Estillo's saddle. Then he laughed a ringing, magnificent laugh, and Estillo carried him swiftly away.

***

The king's carriage crept along, limited by the pace of the guards surrounding us on foot. Whether it was because the guards and carriage blocked the street as we traveled or because the king's carriage itself attracted attention, people stopped in crowds along the street to stare. More and more people joined the crowds, and soon our humble escort had become a parade. People cheered, threw flowers at us, and waved.

"Should we wave back?" said Artemerio.

"I suppose it might be rude of us not to," I said.

Artemerio leaned out through the carriage window and waved. The crowd roared with excitement, and a wave of brightly colored flowers washed over the carriage.

"Very strange," said Artemerio. "I expected that they would lose interest once they saw I was not the king. Lean out and wave, too, Barto. They seem not to care who is waving back at them."

We both waved to the crowds, first on one side, then on the other. All along the road, the people cheered for us, and after the carriage entered the palace grounds, a throng of people pressed in against the gate. The throng cheered as we climbed out of the carriage and walked up the steps to the palace.

The jester met us at the doors of the throne room. He had changed into royal robes and had a small crown on his head. He greeted us with a broad smile. "The time has come! Enter the throne room, and give your answer to the king."

Two of the soldiers with us swung the large doors open, and the other soldiers and guards parted to let us pass through them and walk alone.

Inside, a white carpet walkway ran from the doors to the thrones. Crowds filled the area on either side of the carpet.

The king and queen stood as we entered. Again, the splendor radiating out from them spread over me like a fragrant oil.

The crowd began cheering as Artemerio and I walked toward the front of the room, and flower petals rained down on us.

When we had reached the front and were standing directly before the king and queen, the king began to speak. The people in the crowd silenced themselves to listen.

"Have you come to me with the answer to the riddle?" said the king.

"We have, Your Majesty." Artemerio bowed.

"Recite the riddle, please," said the king.

"Here are the words." Artemerio began to recite:

" _My value is priceless, though I can't be bought._

I call out to all, though I must be sought.

I help men write laws, and I help rulers reign.

I turn all from waywardness, suffering, and pain.

Pursue me and choose me, whatever the cost—

Without me, the greatest of men would be lost.

_Who am I? What do all good kings pursue?_ "

"Yes," said the king. "Now—tell me, what is the answer? What do all good kings pursue?"

"Wisdom," said Artemerio. "The answer is wisdom."

"You are correct," said King Syroton. "And now you are free to sail in the name of Windsal, and I will give you a ship, as I promised. Or—you may accept the throne and the crown of Windsal and fulfill your destiny to serve as king. The time has come, but the choice is yours."

Artemerio looked at me.

"Go on," I said. "The time has come."

Artemerio turned back to face the king. "I accept the throne and the crown and the burdens and sacrifices they require. I will be king."

Cheers erupted from the crowd. After a suitable amount of time, King Syroton raised his hands to silence the people.

"Faithful Barto," said the king, "you have served well and played no small part in this quest. You will be made a prince of Windsal. You will be a mighty counselor to the king. But you will also be a great adventurer for the Crown, if your heart so desires. Do you accept the position of prince and the role of adventurer for the Crown?"

"I accept the position of prince and the role of adventurer," I said.

King Syroton acknowledged my acceptance with a regal nod. "And now—there is one more throne to fill. Guards—escort Folasade."

The ripple of whispers that began at the mention of the name _Folasade_ became sighs of admiration and delight as Lady Wisdom, dressed in a flowing, deep purple gown and looking as lovely as ever, entered the throne room escorted by the Royal Guards. To clapping and cheering, she glided elegantly up the white carpet and joined us before the thrones.

When Lady Wisdom reached Artemerio's side, the king said, "A kingdom should have a queen. If neither of you object, you will marry, and the lovely Folasade, whom you know as Lady Wisdom, will take that throne."

Artemerio turned to Lady Wisdom and stared at her admiringly. "Only a fool would refuse Lady Wisdom such a throne. And only a fool would refuse her his heart."

King Syroton looked at Lady Wisdom. "And your answer, good Lady?"

"I accept the throne." Lady Wisdom gazed admiringly at Artemerio and took hold of his hand. "And I accept his heart."

"Very good." King Syroton smiled. "I look forward with great joy to the wedding. And now—Prince Vestero, chief of the Royal Guard, come forward."

The jester approached carrying a crown similar to the one on his own head.

"Vestero? Prince?" said Artemerio. "Chief of the Royal Guard? But...you are...the jester."

"My finest disguise yet," said Prince Vestero with a merry smile.

"Barto, please kneel," said the king. While I knelt, the king took the crown Prince Vestero carried and placed it on my head. "Arise a prince."

Turning to Artemerio, the king said, "Artemerio, I pass to you now the crown of the king of all Windsal. I step down from the throne, my time of service ended. May the wisdom of the Great King guide you. May the protection of the Great King surround you. May the glory of the Great King be established in Windsal for all of the days of your reign and beyond. Artemerio, please kneel."

As Artemerio knelt, King Syroton removed the crown from his own head and placed it on Artemerio. "Arise a king."

Deafening cheers filled the throne room, and again a shower of flower petals fell around us. Syroton allowed the celebration to continue for several moments before he raised his hands to silence the people.

Queen Athalia approached and respectfully curtsied to King Artemerio. "With my dear husband, I step down from the throne, my time of service ended." She removed her crown and gave it to King Artemerio. "I entrust to you, King Artemerio, my crown, knowing that you will bestow it wisely upon the one who has been chosen next to rule with you." Athalia turned to Lady Wisdom. "May you walk in strength and dignity. May you open your arms compassionately to those in need. May your words be marked by the grace of the Great King, the wise instruction of the Great King, and the love of the Great King." She curtsied and drew back to stand beside Syroton.

"Please kneel," King Artemerio said to Lady Wisdom.

As Lady Wisdom knelt, Artemerio placed the queen's crown on her head. "Arise a queen."

The crowd cheered and applauded. The royal musicians began to play. Syroton and Athalia gracefully and graciously took their leave.

King Artemerio and Queen Folasade took their places on the thrones, and the people in the throne room lined up to pay their respects to the new king and queen.

I moved toward Prince Vestero, who stood not far away, and said, "What has become of Dunley?"

"The battle has not ended," said Prince Vestero. "His plans to keep your brother from the throne have all failed, but I expect we will see him again soon. Now—if you will excuse me...it is much more difficult to keep a proper watch on things when I am not in disguise. And your own throne awaits. The people will want to greet you, too."

"Of course."

Prince Vestero nodded courteously to me and then nimbly and quickly slipped nearer to King Artemerio.

I made my way toward the throne that had been prepared for me at the king's side. But I paused to read, with solemn awe, the words carved into the base of the throne platform:

Secured not by a noble birth,

By soldiers' strength, or mighty works.

Secured by virtues daily shown.

Through justice, mercy, truth—a throne.

As I took my place beside Artemerio, I quietly whispered, "How did we get here?"

"We walked," he whispered back.

The End

About the Author

Candace Christine Little has a B.A. from Dallas Christian College and a J.D. from Regent University School of Law, and she has completed a writing course offered by the Institute of Children's Literature. She has written six novels. Four are part of one series: _The Pursuit of a King (A Tale of Wisdom)_ , _The Heart of a King (A Tale of Faith)_ , _The Honor of a King (A Tale of Mercy)_ , and _The Son of a King (A Tale of Love)_. Two are part of another: _Where Dragons Dwell_ and _Whom Dragons Rule._ Candace believes in the power of stories to nourish, to teach, and to inspire, and she is passionately committed to happy endings.

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