“They will be here momentarily,” she said with satisfaction. “Perhaps we may learn something.” There was the sound of plodding on the trail, silence, and then they appeared around the high stone, precisely as I remembered them. Broad-faced, red-haired, with grins of the same width on lips of the same shape. One of them had an interesting scar over one eye. Otherwise they were identical. The scarred one pointed to his identifying mark.
“Swolwys,” he said. “I keep the scar to make it easier for others to address me by name. It is easier than Shifting into something unique.”
“Our similarity is uniqueness enough,” said the other. “Why should we not be known for that fact as well as any other? I am Dolwys. Those mental midgets in the wagon train did not even notice that they had two identical water oxen. We did it to see if they were alert. They are not, or at least, not very. They even believed you dead, Cousin Peter.”
I swallowed. They looked very young to be so insouciant, younger even than I. “I take it you were not convinced.”
Swolwys considered this. “Ah, had we not known who and what you are, it is possible we would have been taken in. It was very well done. Except that we could not figure out why you did not simply Shift and slide away.”
“There was a woman in the train,” I said.
“Ah,” said Dolwys. “Izia.”
“Lovely Izia,” commented his twin. “Not a type attractive to me, but still, fair. Very fair.”
Mavin’s head had come up like a questing fustigar’s. “A woman? What is she to you?”
“She is nothing to me.” I laughed, somewhat bitterly. “Why this concern? She is a pawn, a servant. She is in durance, held unwillingly, captive by some device I have not seen or heard of before. Boots. Metal boots, high on the leg, which grow hot at Nap’s will. Had I simply vanished, Nap might have thought the woman involved in my disappearance, for I had been stupid enough to let him see me watching her. As you say, she is very fair.”
“But she is nothing to you?”
I began to bridle at this repeated question. “Not quite nothing, no! She is a captive. As were those in Castle Lament. I have told you my feelings about such matters.”
“Ah. Well. Perhaps we can do something about it.”
At that moment, I was glad there was no Demon among them. I had not been able to say she was nothing to me with an honest heart. She was a good deal to me, and the fact that she was now almost within reach of my voice made me tremble. Izia. I could not leave her to Nap’s malevolence. I would have to find a way to free her. I did not understand the compulsion, for it was not merely pity, but I welcomed it as I now supposed I had welcomed Sylbie and Castle Lament. They were all problems, problems to be solved, wrongs to be righted. I thought again of Windlow’s curious word: Justice. It was odd how many satisfying things could be done under that rubric. So, I ruminated while my cousins and mother leaned upon the stone to watch the wagons below.
“There,” whispered Mavin. “Nap has decided to wait until morning to enter the Blot.” It was true. The camp had settled; Nap was seated beside his fire as others moved about the endless duties of the train. I saw Izia at once, moving among the animals, searching for the missing pair, her skirted figure plain among the trousered ones of the men, all walking with that strange hesitation which I now, too well, understood.
“Is there some way we can free them?” I asked the twins. “From Nap, or from the boots?”
“If it becomes important, we must find a way,” said Swolwys. “However, those boots are locked on in a way we do not understand. I have heard Nap say that an Elator in those boots could not move out of them. A Tragamor could not move them from himself. A Shifter could not change out of them. They transcend Talent, so says Nap. Nap controls them, but he must return to the Blot every season to have that power renewed. It is growing weaker even now, and I think it is only that which brings him back to the Blot. Without his power, control of his servants wanes. The last day or two we have seen indications of rebellion among the pawns, particularly the newest ones. We went far to the south, you know, looking for you, I suppose, cousin. We stopped near the Bright Demesne. You were not there, but Nap bought pawns from a pawner, young, strong ones who look at him with mutiny in their eyes.”
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