One Realm Beyond

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Authors: Donita K. Paul
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broke into a radiant smile. “Let’s go.”
    This time she scrambled from branch to branch ahead of Cantor. He marveled at her speed and grace. The limbs barely shook beneath her. But the most startling aspect of this daintily dressed female was how her clothing did not catch on anything. She slipped through foliage, pointy twigs, and leafyboughs with no hindrance. Even Cantor’s more serviceable attire snagged upon occasion.
    Several times Cantor stopped to pull a broken stem from his waistcoat. Bixby dashed ahead. He lost sight of her for a few minutes and came upon her suddenly. She sat with her back to a trunk, legs stretched out in front of her on a broad bough, and her arm rested across a limb that looked as if it had been designed for that purpose.
    He almost passed her, but saw her gesture out of the corner of his eye. She put her finger to her lips and patted a branch very close to her perch. Cantor eased himself down, making little noise.
    Bixby cupped her hand behind her ear, then pointed toward the forest floor at some spot farther ahead.
    Cantor listened. The rumbling of two men talking reached his ears. He strained to make out the words, but a wall of leaves muffled the conversation. Then Bixby put her hand on his and a blast of woodland noises blared in his head. He jerked his hand away to cover his ears. The noise dropped to normal as soon as he broke contact with Bixby.
    He stared at her. Joy and excitement lit her face. By some miracle, she did not burst into giggles.
    With a finger over her lips, she whispered, “Could you do that by yourself? Do you have that talent?”
    He shook his head. “I hear exceptionally well, but I couldn’t pinpoint and magnify a sound like you’re doing.”
    “I’ll teach you.” She held out her hand, and he gingerly touched her fingertips.
    Ordinary sounds of the forest stirred his perception first. He heard soft twitters of birds, rustling of passing small animals in the underbrush, and the wind teasing a song from thehighest tips of the branches. Each sound intensified as he isolated it from the others, but he had been able to do this since he was a young boy exploring the mountainside of Ahma’s home.
    With Bixby’s help, he reached a finer clarity. Although she spoke no words, he followed her lead, sensing her mental maneuvers to achieve her goal.
    He heard an animal lap water, and something splashed in the same vicinity. Flapping wings caught his attention. Then he heard the two men talking, and nothing else infiltrated his concentration.
    “You can’t do anything about it, Lem. If you do, it’ll stir up more trouble.”
    “Ruese, we’re talking about my boy. If it was your Campe, you’d come to me for help, and I’d help you. You know I would.”
    “Sure I know that, but our pader always said you were the fool storming the castle, and I was the farmer plowing the field. You act. I prepare.”
    “My boy, my boy.” A sob emphasized the father’s despair. “I’ve got to get him back. My Aria is grieving her son. I don’t think she can live, knowing he’s turned into a mindless, cruel guardsman.”
    “It might be too late to get him back. They may have already impressed him.”
    Lem cried out, “No!”
    Cantor imagined from the sounds he heard that Ruese had a sobbing Lem in his arms, and the practical brother thumped the brokenhearted one on the back. “Come now, Lem. You have to be strong for Aria and the other children.”
    The sobbing and thumping continued.
    Ruese’s words rose above the wail. “Well, maybe the boy’s still whole. They take the captured to Gristermeyer.”
    Lem caught his breath. Hope lifted his voice. “The new catch was still at Bingar this morning. They won’t arrive at Gristermeyer until suppertime.”
    “If we did break them out, where would they go?”
    “Just my boy, just Arend. Perhaps the guards won’t notice one thin boy gone.”
    “You can’t leave the others, Lem. For one thing, the guard will know just

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