"It was," I insisted.
Robin patted my back as he passed.
"Morons," I muttered.
Outside, it was cold and drizzly. The sun was a patch of milkiness behind the gray sky, a pearl in a mother-of-pearl setting. Midafternoon, I calculated, with a skill I didn't have back home in the city. We hadn't had anything to eat for more than twenty-four hours.
Gone were the woods. Behind us were huge cliffs through which we had traveled. In front of us, there was a river, wide enough that maybe—maybe—a major league pitcher could just throw a baseball across it. On the other side of the water, and for as far as the eye could see, the land stretched flat and featureless except for little clumps of quack grass.
The first thing we all did was kneel at the river's edge and take long drinks of water. Our waterskins, of course, were gone with the rest of our equipment. I hadn't known how thirsty I'd been until I saw the water and realized my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
"Which way to Sannatia?" I asked Wolstan as soon as I was able to talk.
He nodded ahead but off to the left. "I've never come through the Shadow Caves before," he said between gulps. "I've always gone around the Sand Cliffs."
I looked in the direction he was looking. The cliffs stretched on forever. Already the drizzle had penetrated my clothes; already I was shivering from the cold.
"At the end of the cliffs," Wolstan said, "is Miller's Grove. You can just see Sannatia from there."
Thea said, "So all we have to do is follow the cliffs."
Wolstan shook his head. "You could. But that's making extra work for yourselves." With his finger, he drew a diagram in the grit. "We're here. Miller's Grove is here. Sannatia is here." He was showing us a triangle. The straight line between where we were and where we wanted to be cut off the angle where Miller's Grove lay.
"If we don't get lost," Robin said.
"Can't," Wolstan assured us. "All we have to do from here is walk straight into the sun."
Or where the sun would be, if it weren't for the rain.
We all looked at each other. "We certainly don't have any time to spare," Cornelius said. Which we all knew already.
"Well,
I
think," Robin said, "we should take the short way, but first"—he stared meaningfully at the sack tied to Cornelius's belt—"we should divide the treasure." He threw Cornelius's words back at him: "It's not safe to keep all the treasure in one place."
"Look," I protested, "can't we—"
"I agree," Thea cut in.
"Fine," I said, throwing my hands up in disgust.
We sat on the ground and divided our treasure. First we drew blades of grass to establish the order in which we'd choose. Then we went round and round, each person picking one piece till all the pieces were gone. Wolstan got to pick, too, because nonplayer characters have to be included or they mutiny. We each had belt pouches, and nobody ended up with more than those could hold.
I was just pulling tight the drawstring on mine, when Cornelius squealed, "My boots!"
I saw that he was standing looking down at his feet in dismay. On his feet were his old regular boots, the ones that he'd been wearing under the ones he had gotten from the troll statue.
"Those stinking rats stole my boots!"
"Hmmm," I said. The thing was, Robin was sitting between us, his legs outstretched before him as though he had nothing in the world to hide. On his feet were Cornelius's boots.
Robin saw me looking and winked.
"Well," said Thea—and as far as I could tell, she hadn't noticed the boots on Robin's feet—"easy come, easy go."
Cornelius kicked at a rock but missed. "Foul stupid thieves," he fumed.
At least his use of the plural indicated he meant the rats, not Robin. I assumed Robin had stolen the boots last night, when he'd offered to take the first watch and the illusionary torch had still been giving some light. If Cornelius was too unobservant to have missed them till now, I figured that was his problem.
"Come on," I said. "Let's get going. Maybe we'll find a nice lizard or snake on the way, and we can fry it up with some crab grass and divide it six ways and have a wonderful feast."
"Oh, shut up," Cornelius grumbled. He kicked at a clump of grass that was no farther than spitting distance from Robin's feet, then walked to the river's edge. He raised his hands and said something in whatever language it is that wizards speak.
"Going to part the Red Sea?" Robin asked.
"No," Cornelius answered. "Fishing."
For a moment I thought he was being sarcastic. Then I scrambled to my feet and joined him, as did Wolstan. One very large fish was swimming around a group of smaller fish. Herding them, I realized. Bullying them toward the shallow edge.
"The trout's an illusion," he said, which I'd already guessed. "Grab the smaller ones."
"Fine," I said. "How?"
Stooping down, Wolstan snatched one of the smaller fish and tossed it, still wriggling and flapping, onto the ground behind him. Then he leaned forward, ready for another.
"Oh," I said. "Like that."
Wolstan turned out to be a natural. Which was a good thing. Thea was too squeamish about holding onto the slippery, squirming fish once she lifted them out of the water; and Robin and I had terrible timing. Wolstan landed more than the three of us combined.
Once we had a pile of them, Cornelius told us to gather some of the grass so he could make a cookfire.
"You'll never be able to get a flame going in this damp," Wolstan said, picking up one of the fish.
My empty stomach heaved as he bit into it, raw and uncleaned.
Cornelius saved us from that fate.
"Sushi only for those who want it," he said. "I can magically light a fire for anybody willing to wait for a cooked meal."
Fish is not one of my favorite things, but this fish smelled wonderful as we waited there in the cold drizzle, each trying to sit as close to the fire as possible.
Robin pulled his cards from his pocket. "Pick a card," he told me. "Any card."
For want of anything to take my mind off my stomach, I picked a card.
Five hands later, I'd lost five coins and one snake bracelet.
"Count me out," I said, and he turned to Wolstan. "Pick a card," he said.
"Careful, he cheats," I warned.
But by then the fish were half cooked, and that was as long as anyone was willing to wait.
As soon as we finished eating, we crossed the river. Luckily it never got much deeper than chest-level, because Wolstan carried Mom piggy-back. On the other side, he switched and put her across one shoulder, the easiest position for him, but the one she hated the most: with her head down and her rear end up in the air. For myself, I was just thankful that between the rain and the river, most of the orc blood and grime washed off.
Eventually we left the drizzle behind, and the ground became hard-packed dirt with great cracks. Our wet clothes gave off steam in the dry heat, and we all smelled like wet dogs. Finally, after what seemed like three or four weeks, but was only hours, we could see something ahead, something besides endless clumps of grass in endless sun-baked earth.
"The desert," Wolstan said. "The Un-named Desert."
"Wonderful," I said.
"We have to cross the desert to get to Sannatia."
I knew that. But I didn't have to be enthusiastic about it.
As we got closer, much closer, we saw something else, but at first we couldn't tell what it was.
"It looks like signs," Thea said eventually. "A series of signs just beyond where the desert starts."
"Sure," Robin said. "They say
KEEP OFF THE GRASS.
"
We were all too exhausted to laugh. Not that it was that funny.
We couldn't make out the wording until we reached the actual edge of the desert, which was a distinct boundary, a strip no more than ten yards wide, where the ground got sandier and the grass got sparser. Beyond that, the sand was as thick and white as in a brand-new sandbox.
What each of the signs said was
BEWARE OF SAND HANDS.
"
Sand hands?
" Robin said. "
Sand hands?
What in the world are
sand hands?
"
Wolstan shrugged.
We all looked at each other. We all shrugged.
"I never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life," Robin said. He took a step into the sandy area before the desert. And another. Glancing back, he grinned at us. He crossed the not-quite-desert strip. Still nothing happened. Again he glanced back to grin. He took another step, which brought him abreast of one of the signs, and he drummed his fingers against it to show his contempt. He took another step and his foot sank deeper in the sand than he had anticipated, causing him to stumble. He pulled himself upright, then pitched forward again. "Hey!" he yelled, surprised. Then, "Hey!" he cried again. And that was fear in his voice.
From where we stood, we saw ... Well, it sure looked like a hand to me. A human hand. It had hold of Robin's right ankle, and it tugged. Robin's entire foot disappeared under the sand.
Robin pulled out his sword and jabbed into the sand by his foot. No reaction that we could see. He suddenly jerked forward. The sand came up to his right knee.
Suddenly another hand popped out of the sand and grabbed his left ankle.
"Help!" Robin screamed. "Harek! Cornelius!"
It was like his calling us by name stung us into action. I started running across the strip that divided us.
Robin was tilted over, his right side sinking faster than his left. He continued to plunge his sword into the sand all around him, but still without effect.
The sand was up to his hips by the time I reached the sign. I reached forward with my left hand.
He dropped the sword, which was no use anyway, and a hand surfaced to grab it.
I slashed at the hand with my sword, but it was too quick.
Forget that,
I told myself. The important thing was Robin. Grabbing his hand with my left hand, I tugged. He was waist deep, and I wasn't helping at all.
Cornelius had come up behind me and seized hold of my belt. "Use both hands," he commanded me.
I dropped my sword on our side of the sign and reached for Robin. He was buried up to his chest.
"Do something!" he screamed.
More hands broke the surface of the sand, reaching for Robin's shoulders, pulling him down. Thea had run up beside us and struck at the hands where they came out of the sand, but there were too many of them. Any one of the hands could dodge down out of her way, and there were all those others, pulling Robin down, down, till his chin was resting on the sand, till his chin was disappearing under the sand, till more hands pressed down on the top of his head. And then I remembered the boots. "Say the magic word, Robin! Say
'That!'
"
The hands gave a final tug and Robin's head popped under the surface.
I sat down heavily on the hard, sandy ground. After all the fighting and snarling and sarcasm and one-upmanship and cheating at cards, there was a hollow spot in the pit of my stomach that had nothing to do with lack of food.
Wolstan came up behind me, having put Mom down at the boundary where the sand began. Stubborn as always, Mom wasn't going to be left behind and was walking toward us, slowly, seeing that it was too late for rushing to be any use.
"Gone, eh?" Wolstan said. "Terrible waste." He sighed. "Too bad you didn't bring a cleric. Clerics can raise the dead."
I rested my head in my hands. I was beginning to get a headache myself.
"
That?
" Cornelius said in a dangerous tone of voice. He stooped down to put his face on a level with mine. " 'Say the magic word,
that
'? Did Robin have my boots?"
"I—"
Cornelius grabbed the front of my shirt and dragged me to my feet. I was too surprised to resist. "Did you help Robin steal my boots?" he screamed at me.
I shoved him away. "Don't you touch me, you incompetent sleazeball. Why didn't you use your Levitation spell?"
"Oh yeah?" he said. Obviously things had happened too swiftly for him to think of it.
I
hadn't thought of it till a moment ago. "Oh yeah?" he repeated. He started to raise his hands for a spell, and I went for my sword an instant before I remembered I had thrown it down to help Robin.
Thea kicked the back of Cornelius's knee, and he staggered. He had to use his hands to keep himself from falling, and that ruined his spell.
"Stop it," Thea commanded. "Both of you." She gave me a hard shove. "You're acting like boys."
Cornelius rubbed the back of his leg and said with a pained expression, "We
are
boys."
"Well, you're acting like
stupid
boys. Robin was a thief. We knew that all along. So knock it off."
I rubbed my chest where she had stiff-armed me. "Yes, ma'am," I said.
"Now," she said, "if Robin used the magic word in time, he's back at the troll statue. But we certainly can't go back for him. Maybe—if our timing has gotten lucky—when the others come back from the town, they'll pass by there and pick him up."
"Since when has anything about this—" I remembered Wolstan in time and bit off the word
game.
"Since when have we been lucky about anything?"
Thea ignored me. "In any case, there's nothing we can do. We have to press on. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Wolstan and I said.
Cornelius grunted.
"Agreed," my mom started to say. But then she swayed, and before anybody could move, she dropped to the ground.
"I'm all right," I could hear her weak voice protest as we crouched around her. "I'm sorry. I just felt so tired ... And ... dizzy..." She closed her eyes, and I could see her chest heaving as though she'd been running around the block. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I'm sorry I'm ... such a burden."
"Take it easy," Cornelius said, patting her hand.
"We need to find someplace for her to rest," Thea said. "We need to find someplace for all of us to rest."
I shaded my eyes from the sun, which was low enough to be turning the edge of the sky pink and orange. The row of warning signs extended as far as I could see. I turned to Wolstan. "This Miller's Grove, will we reach there before nightfall?"