“We are spirits of the Earth, Clint. We have our ways of preventing our own homes from breaking. Unfortunately, this is not true of your homes, or of caverns which we no longer inhabit.”
I stood up. “Well, sir, seems to me we’ve both got work to do. We need to get topside so’s we can get the H’adamant back, and you’ll need to get your people to rebuild our road.”
“Indeed.” He stood as well and after a moment offered his hand, another gesture he had clearly been shown by the makatdireskovi. I took it; the skin was cool and hard, like shaking the hand of a rough-hewn statue, but no statue ever squeezed back that way. “Clinton Slade, Jodi Goldman, it has been a pleasure, truly. I regret we have met in these circumstances, yet perhaps Nowë shall smile upon us and somehow we shall stop the coming disaster.” He shook Jodi’s hand as well. “Shall I send an escort with you?”
“No offense, sir, but you people don’t seem to be the fastest sorts. I remember the route, and I think me and Jodi can make it back a lot quicker on our own.”
Jodi nodded. The route was long, but it was actually pretty direct, and we had blazed our way with more than just dropped relays whenever there was a doubtful intersection.
“As you will. My people can move quickly, but not for long distances. There you have the advantage of us.”
* * *
We left the throne room with hundreds of Nomes lining our path, holding their weapons in a very different manner. Clearly the word had spread that there was now an accord between us, and they were expressing their understanding as clearly as they could without their ruler’s peculiar advantage.
Once out of the throne room, we made time, pushing as fast as safety would allow. “Father, I don’t know if anyone’s listening, but we’re on our way out.”
“Clint!” came Jonah’s voice. “Y’all okay?”
“We’re fine, and the Nomes are right nice folks, but we’ve got ourselves a powerful lot of trouble. Tell you about it once we’re up.”
Jonah said he’d get the family, so I signed off. The next four days were sure going to be interesting, but like in the old Chinese proverb way.
9. Too Little. Too Late?
“We might be ’bout four days from Armageddon, or leastwise that’s how it’s going to seem around here,” I started out.
The whole family was gathered around the table this time, from Evangeline through Helen and Adam on through Grandpa.
“But you said the Nomes isn’t our enemies, right, Clint?” Mamma asked anxiously.
“Right, Mamma. But it turns out they’ve got relatives of their own that there’s a feud with. These boys play on a bigger scale than we ever figured, and we Slades have gummed up the works but bad.” Jodi and I went on to summarize what Rokhaset had told us. “So unless we can do something to help ’em out, in four days the New Madrid’s going to cut loose with a Big One and ain’t nothing going to be left standin’ for hundreds of miles, least of all the Slade homestead.”
The family sat there in silence. It was an awful lot to take in at once. And somehow it sounded a lot more fantastic here, in the comfortable electric lights of the family room, than it had in the blue-white glow of Rokhaset’s domain.
“You think they can do that?” Father said finally.
I exchanged glances with Jodi. “It’s hard to say, Father. But . . . yes, I guess I have to believe it. What reason would they have to concoct such a silly story if they had a more reasonable motive for wanting the diamonds? We sure didn’t show any sign of needing anything that outlandish.”
“Well,” Evangeline pointed out, “y’all did say they learned how to talk with us from listenin’ to the TV and radio. Lord only knows what they think is normal, Clint.”
I chuckled despite my worries. “You got a point there, Evvie. Jodi?”
She tossed her dark hair back, then shook her head. “I think Rokhaset’s pretty clear on how we think. No way he’d waste his time making up some bobbe maisse like that one; he’s got more important stuff to do.”