I couldn’t help but grin, and stepped forward. We hugged, kissed, then I laughed and spun her around with another whoop. “All right! Jodi, let’s see what the Road is like!” I jumped off the ledge towards the water two feet below.
And I didn’t sink into the water. It supported me, Jodi goggling wide-eyed while I stared back at her. Then, as though a decision had been made, I began to descend, but as though it were transparent quicksand. The feeling was something entirely different, though.
If you were lucky, you had a wonderful, loving mother who was never too busy for you, who always knew the right thing to say whenever you were sad, or scared, or hurt. If you weren’t, you probably wished you did. And if you had a mother like that, you might remember a morning or two when you, as a little child, were scared or lonely and crawled into bed when mommy was sleeping. And mommy, even though still asleep, somehow knew you were there, and her arm reached sleepily out and hugged you close, and you knew everything was completely and utterly right with the world, and nothing could hurt you as long as she was there.
That was what Nowëmosdet was like. The presence here slept . . . yet She knew us, and somehow we knew Her, and Her Road was ready for us.
Jodi stood next to me in the water, both of us standing on the bottom, our heads just above the surface, and once more we just stared at each other. Then we took a step forward.
It was as though there was no water there at all—except that we seemed to be somehow supported by it. Walking together, we seemed not to walk really, but to float, carried onward by our intent, not by muscles. We didn’t really move very fast at all, but it was without effort. No matter how far we traveled this way, we sensed we would arrive completely rested and ready. Even more odd . . . I didn’t feel wet. The dirt had washed from us both, yet otherwise we seemed as dry as if we were walking on the bank.
“Rokhaset, you’ve steered us right so far,” I muttered under my breath. “Let’s hope this last leg works out the way you planned it too.”
We continued on, through the darkness, towards the enemies we had never met . . . yet.
13. Stone and Steel
“I just keep noticing weirder and weirder things.”
“What is it this time, Clint?”
“Ripples. We’re not leaving any.”
Jodi looked down, then behind us. “You’re right. No wake. Like we’re not even here.”
I thought a moment. “No, more like we’re just a part of the water. The Road is taking us along just like we were part of the flow. Unless we hit something to cause the flow of the water to be upset, there won’t be ripples.”
“That makes . . . hold it.”
“What?”
Jodi’s forehead furrowed as she stared ahead. “The echoes. Something’s different. I think we might be finally getting to the end.”
I glanced at my watch and received a bit of a shock. We’d been following Nowëmosdet for nearly ten hours—which seemed to be no more than fifteen minutes or so to me. “I guess so!”
“Shh. They can’t hear most of our talk, but some of the high harmonics might get through.”
Ahead, the darkness seemed to thicken, then lighten up into the yellow-gray of limestone. The water of Nowë ‘s Road continued on into the wall, through a passage completely filled with water, but we felt the impetus which had carried us along weakening. The water still supported us, but clearly this was the end of the road.
On the right-hand side the walkway opened up into a huge tunnel, and on either side of the tunnel—Lisharithada.
They looked very much like the Nomes, but as I studied them, I could see some differences. The crystal crests which served as hair grew in a subtly three-ridged pattern. Their faces were slightly broader and more sharply pointed towards the chin. And they wore stony armor and carried weapons in a much more . . . comfortable fashion than the Nowëthada.