time to find both. Walker Boh seems a better bet.”
Par nodded slowly. He looked uncertainly at Coil and Coil
looked back. “What do you think?” he asked.
Coil sighed. “I think we should have stayed in Shady Vale in
the first place. I think we should have stayed in bed.”
“Oh, come now, Coil Ohmsford!” Morgan exclaimed cheer-
fully. “Think of the adventure! I’ll look out for you, I promise!”
Coil glanced at Par. “Should I feel comforted by that?”
Par took a deep breath. “I say we go.”
Coil studied him intently, then nodded. “I say what have we
got to lose?”
So the issue was decided. Thinking it over later. Par guessed
he was not surprised. After all, it was indeed a matter of choices,
and any way you looked at it the other choices available had
little to recommend them.
They slept that night at the lodge and spent the following
morning outfitting themselves with foodstuffs stored in the cold
lockers and provisions from the closets. There were weapons,
blankets, travel cloaks, and extra clothing (some of it not a bad
fit) for the brothers. There were cured meats, vegetables and
fruits, and cheese and nuts. There were cooking implements,
water pouches and medications. They took what they needed,
since the lodge was well-stocked, and by noon they were ready
to set out.
The day was gray and clouded when they stepped through the
front door and secured it behind them; the rain had turned to
drizzle, the ground beneath their feet no longer hard and dusty,
but as damp and yielding as a sponge. They made their way
north again toward the Rainbow Lake, intent on reaching its
shores by nightfall. Morgan’s plan for making the first leg of
their journey was simple. They would retrieve the skiff the broth-
ers had concealed earlier at the mouth of the Rappahalladran
and this time follow the southern shoreline, staying well clear
of the Lowlands ofClete, the Black Oaks, and the Mist Marsh,
all of which were filled with dangers best avoided. When they
reached the far shore, they would locate the Silver River and
follow it east to Culhaven.
It was a good plan, but not without its problems. Morgan
would have preferred to navigate the Rainbow Lake at night
when they would be less conspicuous, using the moon and stars
to guide them. But it quickly became apparent as the day drew
to a close and the lake came in sight that there would be no
moon or stars that night and as a result no light at all to show
them the way. If they tried to cross in this weather, there was a
very real possibility of them drifting too far south and becoming
entangled in the clangers they had hoped to avoid.
So, after relocating the skiff and assuring themselves that she
was still seaworthy, they spent their first night out in a chill,
sodden campsite set close back against the shoreline of the lake,
dreaming of warmer, more agreeable times. Morning brought
a slight change in the weather. It stopped raining entirely and
grew warm, but the clouds lingered, mixing with a mist that
shrouded everything from one end of the lake to the other.
Par and Coil studied the morass dubiously.
“It will bum off,” Morgan assured them, anxious to be off.
They shoved the skiff out onto the water, rowed until they
found a breeze, and hoisted their makeshift sail. The clouds
lifted a few feet and the skies brightened a shade, but the mist
continued to cling to the surface of the lake like sheep’s wool
and blanketed everything in an impenetrable haze. Noon came
and went with little change, and finally even Morgan admitted
he had no idea where they were.
By nightfall, they were still on the lake and the light was gone
completely. The wind died and they sat unmoving in the still-
ness. They ate a little food, mostly because it was necessary
and not so much because anyone was particularly hungry, then
they took turns trying to sleep.
‘ ‘Remember the stories about Shea Ohmsford and a thing that
lived in the Mist Marsh?” Coil whispered to Par at one point.