With some trepidation over worrying them needlessly, Giles said, ‘I found hoofprints all right. But they turned east, forded a stream, and continued into the forest.

  ‘So they don’t appear to be following us. It goes to show, however, we must keep a sharp eye out for the unusual. Keep your sense alert, Anji.’ The boy grinned. ‘You too, Petia. We’re too near success to be beaten now.’

  ‘What success can that be, I ask you?’ a man spoke up from across the room. ‘There’s naught to be done in this forsaken wasteland.’

  Giles sucked on his pipe and nodded to the man who had interrupted. He offered him his tobacco pouch when the man’s pipe sputtered and went out. ‘Do you know this area well?’ Giles asked.

  The man puffed solemnly for a moment, tamping his pipe to make certain that it burned evenly. ‘You might say so.’ He nodded in emphasis. ‘I’m a peddler by trade. Been travelling these parts for a good many years.’

  Giles motioned for Petia, Anji and Keja to be silent, then pulled a map from his tunic. ‘Maybe you can tell what we have ahead of us. We’re travelling through these parts for the first time.’

  The peddler hunched forward over the map, one grubby finger tracing familiar routs until he had found the inn. ‘Which way do you travel from here?’ he asked.

  ‘North,’ Giles answered.

  The peddler’s eyes widened. ‘Arrgh, it’s a bad time of the year you’ve chosen,’ he said. ‘Snow coming any time now. Even in the best of times it’s not a pleasant place you’re heading into. Mountains and secluded valleys and the people most inhospitable. They tolerate me for my goods, but not much more. I wouldn’t care to be snowed in there for the winter. I’m heading for the coast where it’s warmer and the ale isn’t bitter.’

  ‘Tell us about the snow,’ Giles said.

  ‘I can only tell you what I’ve heard from others,’ the peddler replied puffing blue clouds of smoke that veiled his weathered face. ‘I don’t take any chances. I make certain that I’ve finished my rounds and am well away before the winter comes hard. The people tell stories of immense storms, of being snowed in for weeks. They may be exaggerating, but they make it sound as if you shouldn’t be caught out in the open.’

  Petia leaned forward. ‘I don’t like this, Giles. We can take the wet, but snow is different.’

  ‘It’s cold and wet,’ grumbled Keja, used to city amenities.

  Giles leaned back, puffing thoughtfully on his pipe.

  The Peddler bowed towards Petia. ‘Good evening, miss. We don’t see many Trans in these parts, not since they came runnin’ in this direction during the War, beggin’ your pardon. Understand, I don’t have any problems with your people. I’ve traded in the Trois Havres and have already been treated honestly.’

  Petia sat back, steeling herself to hear how he wasn’t prejudiced against the Trans. She watched the peddler as he swallowed half a tankard of ale before returning to the pipe fuelled by Giles’ tobacco.

  ‘You and the boy had best be careful, though. These mountain people are strange. They don’t like outsiders of any persuasion much, and I’m not sure how they’ll react to a pair of Trans. Some of them are all right, I guess. They’re honest folk, but they have some funny ideas. I’d keep a sharp eye out.’

  Petia tensed. Giles rested a hand on hers, cautioning her to silence. Giles didn’t need Petia’s emotion-sensing talents to see that the peddler wondered how he could use information about the four to his own advantage.

  Giles rose from the table, yawning and stretching. He picked up his pipe and tobacco pouch. ‘We’ve had a long day on the road. I hope you’ll excuse us if we retire.’

  The others followed him after curt ‘Good nights’ to the peddler. At the top of the stairs, Giles paused and whispered. ‘We’ll discuss it in the morning. Let’s sleep late and take our time in the morning.’ He grinned wryly. ‘It might be the last time we sleep warm and dry for a while.’

  In the morning they ate a leisurely breakfast, much to Keja’s delight. Not only the food pleased him, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the serving maid. When the maid had cleared their bowls, Giles said, ‘I think we ought to stay here another day and talk this out. The peddler’s news last night wasn’t particularly encouraging. We should consider whether to continue or leave this venture until spring.’

  ‘I agree, Giles. You’re right. Very right.’ Keja smiled broadly and winked at the maid, who seemed inclined toward the small man.

  ‘No! I, for one…’ Petia was stilled by Giles’ huge hand.

  ‘Let’s enjoy the morning. With no pressure just to survive, we can think more clearly about continuing or waiting. Another day isn’t going to hurt our plans, one way or the other.’

  Giles rose from the table and went to the window, peering out. ‘It’s clear at the moment. I’m going for a walk. Fresh air helps my thinking,’ He slung his cloak around him and left the inn, closing the door carefully behind him.

  Keja stared after him, as if unable to believe his good fortune. ‘I guess he means it. I’ll be damned.’ He stood, straightened his tunic and announced, ‘I do my best thinking in bed.’ He disappeared up the stairway.

  Anji looked questioningly at Petia, who glumly nodded. ‘The maid went upstairs after she took our dishes. I think Keja will be well occupied for the rest of the day. Are you up for a game of Threes and Fours?’

  ‘What’s that?’ the boy asked. Petia got a leather cup fulled with dice from the innkeeper and spent the day showing Anji how to play.

  * * *

  At dinner, Petia was nearly ready to burst. The inactivity had worn on her, as much as she enjoyed the time with Anji. Giles was not to be hurried, however, and only when his pipe was lit did he begin.

  Keja, sated after a day with the winsome maid, felt magnanimous and allowed Petia to speak first. He leaned back, hiked booted feet to the table and laced his nimble fingers behind his head.

  ‘Spending the winter in one of the cities of Trois Havres would make me crazy,’ she said. ‘I can’t stand inactivity. I want to push on. I have Anji to think about and the sooner we get the final key and pick up the treasure behind the Gate, the sooner Anji and I can get on with our lives.’

  Petia’s speech came out in a rush and was the closest she had ever come to saying how much the boy she had purchased at the slave market meant to her. The boy from Bandanarra had become a part of her life – a significant part.

  Keja smiled to himself. The boy was changing Petia, and not in subtle ways. He imagined her as a middle-aged homebody, having supper ready when Anji returned from schooling. The thought amused him. In five or six years the boy would be old enough to go out on his own. What then for Petia? He wondered if she had thought of that.

  What then for Keja Tchurak? The thief scowled now as he realised how much Petia meant to him. He tried to shrug off the feelings. It’d never do for him to be tied down like that. A home? Petia and Anji? Keja snorted and shook his head at the insane idea.

  ‘So you’re for going on?’ Giles nodded. ‘Let’s hear what Keja has to say, and then Anji.’

  Keja brought his feet to the floor and leaned forward. ‘I’m still wanted, so to speak. I saw some old handbills while we were in Sanustell. They were faded, of course, but the reward is real. I imagine it’s the father of my one-time paramour from whom I stole the first key who is responsible. And back on Bericlere there was a trivial matter of the theft of that overly endowed woman’s jewels. What was her name, anyway? I’m good at figures, but I never was good with names.’ He grinned. ‘I could find someplace to hide out over the winter, I’m sure, but you know me. I’d just get into more trouble.’ He put his feet up again, finished.

  ‘Anji, you may be the youngest, but still you’re part of our pleasant little band. What do you say?’

  The boy looked at Petia, but she simply nodded as if to say, ‘Go ahead, say what you think.’

  ‘I don’t like the rain, and I don’t think I’ll like snow, although I’ve never seen any before. Petia says it can get bitterly cold. I don’t see how I can get any colder than I already am, but I trust Petia.’ The boy paused, gathering his thoughts. ‘She wants to go on and get it over. When she bought me in the slave market, I promised I’d follow her anywhere. She wanted to set me free, and I guess I am, but I’m going to stay with her. If she goes on, I’ll go, even if it means freezing to death.’

  ‘That leaves you, Giles,’ Petia prodded. ‘Your turn.’

  ‘Yes, my turn. Anji is the only one who has spoken of the hardship from the cold and snow. I’m an old man…’ He held up his hand to stop the protests forming. ‘You know how many years I spent fighting in the Trans War. Twenty years took a lot out of me. I’d be a lot more comfortable holed up in some inn for the winter, toasting my bones in front of the fire. But I’m a bit like Keja. No posters out for my head, but I’m not well liked among the Flame Sorceress’ worshipper in Sanustell. Not after I killed her to get the flame key. So none of the Trois Havres towns for me, either.

  ‘But let’s get down to cases. Do we have enough warm clothing to make it? The horses are in good shape, well fed, capable of getting through the winter, I’d say.’ He saw Anji nod vigorously, eyes shining. ‘The people we can ignore. Nothing can be more hostile than the Bandanarra desert, and we survived that. We should be able to cope with these hill folk, even if they prove surly.’

  Petia spoke up. ‘We packed woollen cloaks. If it’s as harsh as the peddler said, we need skins and furs. But I think we’ll make out all right. We won’t freeze, Anji.’

  The boy smiled at her, adoration in his eyes. He would follow her anywhere, even if he had no clear idea about her need to find this fifth key to what the boy believed to be only a legend.

  ‘No strong arguments for going back, then,’ Giles said. ‘We’ll continue in the morning.’

  ‘I’ll see to our gear,’ said Keja. ‘The serving wench hinted that she might have a special waterproofing for our cloaks.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Petia said sourly.

  Keja looked at her curiously, wondering what bothered her. Whistling he set off to find the maid and attend to their cloaks.’

  ‘Anji, go see to the horses. We want them ready for a long ride tomorrow,’ said Giles. ‘And Petia. I want you to memorise this map. I’ve opened and closed it so many times, the paper wears thin. I’d not like to be the only one knowing the terrain.’

  She nodded, knowing what was on the man’s mind. If anything happened to him, Giles wanted the others to be able to return. Giles and Petia bent over his map, looking up only when Anji rushed back in.

  Anji burst into the inn’s common room, shouting, ‘Giles, Petia, someone’s cut open the saddles and the bags.’

  Giles shot to his feet and nearly ran Anji down getting out the door. Petia ran a pace behind him.

  They found the riding equipment exactly as Anji had said. Their gear had been scattered about the stables, each piece tossed aside after close scrutiny. Someone had made a thorough job of it. The seams of the saddle skirts were split, as was the joint between cantle and skirts. The cloth linings had been ripped free and now hung in tatters. Saddlebags had been emptied, and spare clothing and blankets thrown aside to drape over the bales of straw in one corner.

  ‘Somebody’s searched thoroughly,’ Giles said, collapsing onto a pile of loose hay. ‘It looks as if they hunted for something very small – and we know what that means. Someone knows we have the keys.’ He picked up a saddlebag, turning it over to see what damage had been done.

  Anji checked the horses carefully, crooning to them. He lifted each leg, checking their hooves to see that no injury had been done to them. He saw Giles’ questioning look, and said, ‘In Bandanarra the desert raiders often damage the hooves of their enemies’ horses. I have to make sure we will not ride out only to become stranded in a way or two.’

  Giles sighted. He rose and began to gather the pieces. ‘Help me sort this out. Petia. We no longer have a quiet evening before us. Everything needs repair. Anji, when you’ve finished with the horses, fetch Keja. He can repair a saddle as easily as I can. A catastrophe here, danger behind, and… what ahead?’

  Giles shook his head. ‘It looks as if we’re in for more trouble.’

  He hoped that the final key to Paradise would be worth the effort.

  Two

  At breakfast, Giles glowered as the others took their places at the table, muttering a barely sociable ‘Good morning,’ Keja started to tell him that their position wasn’t too bad, but Petia nudged him in the ribs and silenced him. The small thief subsided, seeing she had more accurately gauged Giles’ mood. Any talk now would turn bitter.

  They had dragged the saddles into the inn after supper and worked late into the night repairing them. The longer they had worked the more angry Giles had become, and it was apparent that the night’s sleep had not brought any change.

  Finished with breakfast, Giles growled, ‘Someone is after us, that’s certain. I thought everything would be safe at an inn. We should have set watches. And from now on we will. These saddles are almost worthless. Maybe we should turn back.’

  ‘Not on your life!’ Petia exclaimed. ‘We made the decision to go on and we’re going to. We’ll ride on saddle blankets if we have to. You just didn’t get enough sleep last night. You’re acting like an old grump.’

  Keja turned away and stared at the fire, hiding his grin. Petia could get away with that: he couldn’t. If he had said anything like that to Giles, he would have had a fight on his hands.

  ‘I didn’t want to go on this crazy treasure hunt in the first place,’ Giles muttered. ‘Even before I met up with you two I got hit on the head and accused of murdering a priest in a temple. Then I nearly drowned saving you two in the Flame Sorceress’ cave. Then some mysterious stranger followed us all the way to Bandanarra, as if we didn’t have our hands full with the Skeleton Lord and his snakes.’

  He headed towards the door. ‘Why can’t we just this once retrieve the key without somebody harrying us all the way? I’m fed up to here with this.’ He gestured against his throat with the side of his hand and went out, slamming the door.

  ‘Let’s give him a few minutes to simmer down,’ Petia said. ‘Anji, check our room to see that we didn’t leave anything.’

  The boy, whose eyes had widened at Giles’ outburst, nodded. ‘I’ve never heard Giles like that before,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know he had a temper.’

  ‘He doesn’t usually,’ Petia said. ‘He’ll come out of it once we’re on our way. It’s always the start of a journey that’s the hardest. Now, get on with you. Check the room.’

  When they reached the stable, Giles was still muttering, but he had two horses saddled. The saddles were no longer things of beauty but the repairs looked as if they would hold. Anji went to each of the horses, greeting them in a soft voice. Keja and Petia saw to the packs and saddlebags, while Giles completed the saddling.

  When he had pulled tight the last cinch, he stepped away from his horse, craning his neck to scan the sky. ‘Looks like the day won’t be too bad,’ he said, stepping up into his stirrup. The others hastily mounted and trailed behind him as Giles rode from the stableyard.

  For an hour the track remained level. Wispy, rainless clouds came and went, turning the day grey, but if it got no worse than this, it would be pleasant enough. By mid-morning the road began to turn upward into the Adversaries. Giles pulled the map from inside his tunic and halted to scan it.

  ‘The road rises to Honiton Pass,’ he said. ‘The map seems accurate. I was afraid that it might not be.’

  ‘It’s the map we found in Shahal, isn’t it?’ Keja asked. ‘The one in the giant skeleton’s hands?’

  ‘It’s a copy I made,’ Giles answered. ‘There was some information on the original that I’ve left out, just in case it falls into other hands. Some notes nobody else needs to know about, if you take my meaning.’

  ‘You think it will take us to the last key?’

  Giles clucked up his horse. ‘If it continues to be as accurate as it has been up to now,’ he said.

  They rested at noon and ate a sparse lunch, taking the opportunity to water and feed their horses. The companions had not resumed their journey for long before Keja remarked on the number of tree branches scattered along the road. ‘There must have been a big storm through here recently,’ the small thief said. ‘Those weren’t cut, they were blown off the trees.’

  It wasn’t long before they found the road completely blocked by a fallen tree. They rounded a bend and found an ironhorn lying aslant the road. To their right gaped a hole in the earth and the massive root system jutted up, exposed. The trunk was several times the thickness of Giles’ waist and crushed into the ground. There was no room to lead the horses through.

  They dismounted and surveyed the tree. ‘There’s a giant for you,’ Giles commented. ‘And we had been making such good time, too.’

  He strode to the left side of the road, following the length of the tree into the forest. ‘It must be over a hundred feet tall,’ he said. ‘The underbrush is thick on both sides of the road, but the shortest way around is past the roots. He gestured to the right, and began to tug his sword free from its scabbard. ‘Tie the horses, Anji, and we’ll start hacking a path through the undergrowth. Time to work up a sweat, my friends.’

  Anji tended the horses while Keja and Petia pulled their swords and began helping Giles hack through the thick foliage. Anji tethered the horses and watched as the three cleared ferns and the sturdier salal and tamra grape. Anji tested the reins, took a deep breath and then slipped into the forest.

  The Trans boy moved through the underbrush swiftly and silently. He did not return to the road until he came to the other side of the bend. When he emerged, he stayed close to the verge, looking behind him. The road stretched empty and uninviting. Anji broke into a trot, watching carefully as far as he could see up the road. He had sensed something when they had stopped for their midday meal. He hadn’t heard it, just sensed it. He was sure that someone – or something – followed. Giles may have found tracks leading off in another direction, but they were still followed, Anji was certain. He’d prove his worth to them by discovering the identity of that persistent tracker.

 

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