that there would, indeed, be eyes ready to notice them once they stepped from the veil of the forest’s edge into the open.
Before leaving the cover of the trees, Thorn instructed them to move swiftly and say nothing until they had crouched just below the ridge.
“If there are Fire-eyes watching from the grass, we will not be able to see them in the daylight. I would suggest that we wait until dark, but that would only give any enemies behind us more time to catch up. Besides, as soon as we see them, they will already have seen us. Off we go.”
Side by side they left the forest and ran onto the grassy slope, Beatríz at one end holding onto Elli’s shirttail. The ground beneath the grass was hard and even, so all of them, including Beatríz, were able to move with remarkable speed. At the slope’s steepest point, not far from the ridge, Beatríz tripped over her own feet, losing her grip on Elli’s shirt. Neither she nor Elli said a word, each knowing that Elli would reach back quickly for her, which she did. Soon, all were lined up, crouching in the grass within arm’s length of the top of the ridge.
In the darkening twilight, which had already settled on the other side of the knoll, they could hear indistinct voices and an occasional cracking sound, not unlike the sound of two boards being clapped together. Far below and behind them several Fire-eyes, having sold their souls to the Evil One, through Sutante Bliss, in exchange for the promise of bodies, watched from the cover of tall grasses near the edge of the forest. Then, concealed by the grasses, the Fire-eyes flew wide of the travelers to the top of the ridge and over. Little did these Fire-eyes know, however, that the Fire-eyes who had led the children to Thorn were, from just inside the forest’s edge, watching them. As soon as the stealthy Fire-eyes that were watching Thorn and the children were out of sight, off flew the other set of eyes northward.
Thorn crawled several feet further to the top of the ridge to get a peek at what was waiting for them on the other side. Thorn raised his head just enough to see through the tops of the grasses, looked without moving for several minutes, and then uttered a quiet “Hmmmm . . .”
“What is it, Thorn?” whispered Elli.
Thorn slipped back to where the children were bunched together. “Well,” said Thorn, his eyes appearing thoughtful and looking at no one. “What we have is this. Below us on the other side is a cluster of maybe ten large mud huts and a larger building made of logs with a tower on top. They are located on this side of the river that runs right to left. To the right of the huts, and stretching for dozens of acres on both sides of the river, are fruit trees. There are a number of Unpersons who, even at dusk, are tending to the trees, and a number of people from this part of the kingdom are clearing the land to plant new trees, or so it would seem. They are turning the soil and carrying away rocks. Unpersons are supervising them, and overseeing the entire operation are an uncertain number of Sutante Bliss’s warriors, including a few Wolfmen. I could see three of the troops in the tower, but there have to be more inside the log building. What we are hearing are the voices of the overseers giving commands and cracking whips.”
“Thorn,” asked Beatríz, “who are these people you speak of—and are they slaves? And, are they also Unpersons—or becoming so?”
“The people in this part of the kingdom had been some of the most loyal subjects of the Queen. Those who did not resist the forces of Sutante Bliss were promised leniency: they, like others elsewhere, became Unpersons, turning against their own people, betraying the Queen and losing all childnessness as they embraced evil in a host of ways, either intentionally or simply by refusing to resist.
“Most of those who resisted were forced into servitude, though some were simply killed. You will see they will look old and very worn, but they will have, to a partial extent, the distinct facial features that you yourselves possess because they refuse to accept the rule of Sutante Bliss, and have refused to renounce the core of who they are—their childnessness—which is said to be at the heart of the Good. However, they no longer possess the power of the Queen and her community, and are barely able to remember what it means to follow the Good and manifest childness. Mostly, they do not believe any longer, even though they will not defer to evil.”
“Do not believe any longer in what?” asked Elli.
“The source of all things, the Good, and in its power to overcome Sutante Bliss and his vile deeds, much less the Evil One, who is the ultimate source of all evil.”
Thorn paused for a moment, turned to Jamie—who had first asked about the Fire-eyes—and then continued. “Some, however, have had their eyes removed and their bodies killed and burned. What remains of them are what we call the Fire-eyes, left to wander the world bodiless. A few of the Fire-eyes remain loyal to the Queen and the Good, even in their unending state of disembodiment, like the ones that led you to me. However, most of the Fire-eyes were promised new bodies if they served Sutante as his spies, and in this way came under his authority.”
“Do they actually get bodies?” asked Jamie, skeptically.
“Yes. Some have already been given bodies. Sutante Bliss will simply replace the eyes of the body of a resister with Fire-eyes from among those most loyal to him. You see, the soul is in the eyes—not in the body—and it is the eyes that give the body life.” Thorn replied.
“Can you kiw the Fiuwise?” asked Alex.
“Actually, no.” said Thorn. “Once the eyes are removed they no longer have flesh and so cannot themselves be held captive or killed. It is not any longer fear of Sutante Bliss, but the incentive to once again have a body, that captures the loyalty of the Fire-eyes. And,” he added, as if to punctuate the point, “that is a powerful incentive.”
The thoughts of each of the children were now spinning, like the swirling of dry autumn leaves, endeavoring to comprehend all that Thorn had just told them. Thorn suggested that they wait until dark to crawl over the ridge and then continue crawling in the long grass toward the river where they could hide in the tall reeds and cattails that lined the riverbank. Once under cover again, they could make their way in the water quietly downstream—to the left and away from the watchtower. All agreed that this was a good plan, each one wondering in the deepening twilight on this side of the hill what lay in store for them in the dark on the other side.
At last, the large red sun settled softly below the tops of the forest trees behind them, and darkness began to creep up and over them from the other side of the ridge. Soon, night had unrolled its shroud, revealing from east to west an amazing display of stars, like so many thousands of crystals and sequins sewn onto the black velvet fabric of the sky.
When it was well past nightfall, Thorn gave the final instructions. A slight iridescence covered the earth, as if the stars themselves had ever so lightly dusted the grasses and trees. The plan was to crawl on their stomachs over and down the hill through the grass toward the river, aiming for a spot in the cattails some one hundred yards downstream from the tower.
“Everyone ready?” Thorn asked. They were. “Remember—slowly, and as quietly as possible; follow me.” And so, like five black salamanders hugging the dewy ground, they slithered and slid over the crest of the hill and down, one after the other. At a laboriously slow pace they moved silently down the hill, their bodies barely visible above the tall grass. Any slight scraping and rustling noises they made against the ground and through the grass were sufficiently covered by the croaking and chirping of toads and frogs drifting up from the water’s edge—as if, on behalf of the children and Thorn, the little creatures intended by their noise to prevent discovery by the enemy.
The descent seemed never-ending, but finally they were within fifteen yards of the cattails. At this point the five were beginning to feel some small degree of success and relief. It was also at this point
