I
A hummingbird zoomed over Roland, zipping through the air like it was on a quest to save the world. The bird flew away after poking several of the red and blue flowers under the wall's shadow. Maybe one of the hundred birdsongs Roland heard came from it; it was hard to tell with the wind droning over the wall. Again, Roland envied the past. Stories of the internet and its vast amount of useless information made their way to him countless times from middle-aged people. They never shut up about the internet. Social media, search engines, games, forums. Finding a specific type of birdsong was easy back then. Roland tried to comprehend it, but he remembered his uncle's laptop and the massive amount of information in it, and he was at a loss again. Cid said that his laptop was nothing compared to the internet.
Just like the gardens. They were big, as big as the ballroom inside the Stronghold, and had ponds and trees, benches and crates, flowers and fruit. But beyond the gate was the world, untamed by the massive walls that sheltered him. The gardens were a tiny fraction, a sampler of the world. Roland knew every nook and cranny as well as his own hands. Countless drawings of them piled in his trunk back in his room, from the pond to the benches to several landscapes and portraits of Diana posing in them.
He wanted more. He deserved it, and yet they wouldn't let him. He knew his father had his best interest in mind. Roland had a hard time blaming his caution. A monster had taken his eye, and he'd lost countless Scavengers outside. Friends.
And yet. His head throbbed, and the faint voice called to him once more. It hadn't ever been so frequent. What changed?
The hummingbird returned to circle him and fly out of the walls, dancing in the stirring wind.
"Let's climb the wall," Diana said, taking him back from his thoughts. She sat up from her spot beside him, her hair full of grass. She shook it off with one hand, her eyes set on the front wall.
Roland frowned. "That would be insane, Dia." Yet it was the best idea he'd heard in a long time.
"Don't tell me you're scared." Diana moved towards the wall. "I'm conquering the walls of the Stronghold, then I'm conquering the world outside."
Roland followed. Diana stopped two feet from the wall, squinting at the amalgamation of materials it was made with. Wood, steel, concrete, pieces of a car here and there, and even some plastic pipes that looked ready to burst. He gulped when he looked up. The wall appeared to grow larger, looming over him like a domino ready to tumble down and squash him. Diana grabbed a steel tube that protruded out and pulled herself up, placing her feet on a car window and grabbing a pipe with her left hand. The pipe gave, but she kept going up, hand shooting to a crevice. She moved on to a set of steel blocks, probably old engines, then climbed over a car's bumper. She passed a washing machine, a monitor, and several hundred cans fused together with concrete. She stopped to take a breather, feet resting on a twisted lamppost. Roland swiped his brow and exhaled. One slip, and she'd be dead. If only they mastered durandite control, then a fall from that height would only tickle. Probably.
"Don't you want to be a Scavenger? You'll never be one if you stop at a wall this small," Diana said. She was one-third up on the wall. More than ten feet over the ground. She grabbed a plastic handle and shoved her feet into a crevice. Something there slipped off and fell, but Diana giggled and climbed up. She looked like an ant making her way through a jungle of garbage, twisting herself, shooting her arms and legs in awkward angles.
"I'll climb it. You'll see," Roland said, more to himself than to Diana, and grabbed the first pipe he saw.
Most of the wall was hot, but the steel pipe was burning. Roland quickly shot his hand upward to grab the top of a car door and placed his feet on a steel gap. He reached the twisted post and gasped for breath. Diana kept going up, becoming a shadow mingled with the wall. He was about to look down and then remembered his uncle telling him never to look down, so he gritted his teeth and grabbed the next handhold. Halfway up, he felt his weight pull him down, and he struggled to breathe. He pushed on, grabbing, kicking his way to the top, thinking about the stories of heroes, the stories about his dad. Richard never hesitated to climb a stupid wall. Even the wooden sword protested, clanging against steel and plastic. His father's golden sword would never do that. An absurd idea. That sword was real, heavier.
With a final pull, he was up. Roland gasped when he saw the skyline stretch above and beyond. Trees expanded across to the horizon, and the river flowed from behind the Stronghold toward them, blue water shimmering with white specks of light. The Stronghold — that massive, three-story building that housed his entire life — was a tiny speck in a green-and-blue world. He turned around and saw the Blue Forest, where blue and gray pines swayed close to each other, and mist oozed in thin tendrils, bleeding into the Old Forest of green. To the east, he saw the pink peaks of the Oasis, and beyond that, the Jonathan Mountains in the distance. Great, twin peaks reaching toward the clouds.
Southeast from the mountains, great plains spread, dying at the foot of a second mountain range. The Central Plains and Central Mountains. Roland tried to see beyond the plains, to the east where the Abode stood, but he only saw specks of gray-and-brown ruins that littered the plains. Those called to him. Treasure, they promised. And glory. He turned back west and saw greenery all the way to the horizon. Had the Stronghold been taller, or set on a mountain, he would've seen the ocean. Shadows and lights and colors danced in his mind, twisting with the gentle wind, flowing with sunlight. Several things clicked in his head, gears setting into place or churning at max power.
Wings. If he had wings, he could soar to any of those spots that shone with promise. He could see the ocean beyond, skydive to the ruins, reach the peaks of the mountains. Free. He saw himself with the wings of a falcon, flying free, away from the Stronghold and the walls.
A jolt in his head shattered the dreams, followed by a whisper. The wind took the words ahead.
The flags framing him snapped in the stirring wind. Both had the gray cross with the white sun etched over a black background.
Roland looked at Diana, then followed her gaze. She was staring at the turquoise shimmering waters of a marsh and the gray line that cut it in half, a forgotten highway suspended over the wetland, a place simply named Highway Marsh. From his vantage point, he could see a hundred pleasant references for a painting. His hand twitched at the idea of painting so many landscapes.
"I'm going to be a Scavenger, Diana. Mark my words. I'll be the best Scavenger ever. I'll even find the legendary Scavenger treasure if it kills me," Roland said. "I'll paint all these places, and they'll be passed down from generation to generation." It felt like a revelation, yet something obvious. The wooden sword swaying on his hip seemed to grow heavier. An omen, maybe, or a premonition. Maybe just awareness. He patted the hilt twice and tapped the pommel.
"The Scavenger treasure? You still believe in it? Tod told me it was just a story to get people to become Scavengers, and Mom backed him up."
"It must be real. Dad says so. Cid thinks so, too, and I've heard Scavengers talk about trying to find it. Whatever it is, that Scavenger left it for others to find, or perhaps it was something so big and awesome he couldn't claim it. Anyway, I'll find it. Out there." He passed a hand over the landscape. "It's all so massive, though."
"I get it. Everything seems so close, yet so far." She extended her arms toward the horizon. "Let's go outside," Diana said. Her gaze was lost southward.
Roland turned to her. "How?" he asked. "This wall is like two and a half stories high. Not to mention Dad would kill us." He sighed, clenching his fists. "I'm ready, but he just won't see it. What does he want? I can't be as strong as him. Not everyone can be a hero. I just want to be a Scavenger and explore. Find treasure. It's not like I want to fight an army of monsters, or take down dragons."
Diana shrugged. Roland looked at the solar panels that lined the top of the wall under his feet and noticed there were no parapets or railings. Vertigo smacked him, turning his legs to jelly. Wings would've helped with that.
Diana turned around and dropped down the way she came from. Roland shook his head, looked at the glistening waters of the marsh one last time, and followed her. Gravity pulled Roland, making the trip down harder. Trying not to think about the fall was difficult, and vertigo still followed him. Roland let go three feet over the ground and staggered when he landed. A cloud of dust puffed up; he shook it away from his clothes. Diana was looking up and down at the gates, rubbing her lips in her usual thinking expression.
Two massive slabs of wood and steel, around twenty feet high, served as the only entrance to the Stronghold. Roland had crossed those gates once, on his father's horse, and they didn't gallop more than five minutes away from them, but that had been many years ago. Deep down, he was eager to go, and the feeling struggled with his desire to avoid trouble.
"The gates are open," Diana said.
A gap shone with light from outside, shifting as the wind pushed at the door. "No way, maybe Uncle Cid forgot to close them. Are we really going? We'll get in trouble, and Uncle, too, if he forgot to close it again." And yet, he itched to go, his hands trembling. He took a deep breath and scratched behind his ear. To go and disobey his father, or to stay and stale?
"Maybe he's in trouble," Diana pondered. She looked at the gap and squinted.
"Uncle Cid? Nah. Unless he ran into a dragon or something, he'd be able to fight it off or run away, I think." Roland crossed his arms and stared at the gap. Outside, free of walls.
"Come on, let's go before someone notices."
Diana crossed the gates, sword out, and Roland followed, resisting the urge to curse. He moved a rock between the gates to prevent a sudden closure. Roland looked around at the trees and beyond them, stretching his hands and grabbing at the horizon, not anywhere in particular. Diana grabbed his hand and pulled him to a path of faded, red bricks that led into the woods. Their boots clicked on the rough bricks, and he noticed the sounds of nature were the same as inside. Of course, the wall is not a filter, idiot, he thought.
"Where are we going?"
"There's a small cliff that my mom used to talk about. It wasn't that far, and I think it was following this path," Diana answered.
The path moved south of the solid outer wall made of steel, unlike the interior mess, and into the forest blessed with green trees and sprinkled with blues and purples flashing from flowers, some in yellows and whites. Mushrooms grew along the trunks of the trees, some in reds with spots, others gray and brown. A rabbit skipped between the trees and rustled away inside the bushes. Butterflies dazed around, dragonflies joining their dance. Free.
Soft crunching sounds approached them from behind, followed by a muffled thud. Roland turned back to find Tod. He stood outside, arms crossed and frowning at them. The gates were closed behind him.
"The gates," Roland said. He looked at Tod and Diana, then at the wall. "They closed. I left a rock between them, dang it."
"Tod! What the hell!" Diana shouted. "We're in deep trouble now! Deeper than the emptiness in your head, you slimy idiot."
Roland looked at the gates and frowned. He scratched his chin and closed his eyes, but no idea came to mind. "Yup, we're screwed. There's no opening them from this side unless we have a key. They lock automatically. Scavengers get a key. We'll have to wait for one of them or Uncle Cid to come back. Maybe someone can open them from inside? Why would you move the rock I placed, dude? It was there for a reason!"
"How am I supposed to know that?" Tod protested.
"How, you ask? I can't believe you," Diana said. "We've been told thousands of times not to . . ."
Crunch. Crunch.
The three of them stopped talking and turned their heads to the woods. Something stepped out of the shadows, gray and humanoid, but with two long tentacles in place of its arms and clawed stumps for legs. The humanoid face lacked a nose, and it was bald save for a few sprinkled tufts of hay-colored hair. Fangs protruded from its lips, twisted, pointing in all directions. A hungry gaze fell on Roland and made his hairs stand on edge and sent his heart into a frenzy.
"Wait, what is that?" Diana said.
"Monster!" Tod shouted. He turned back and began to bang on the closed gates. "Help! Help! Monsters at the gates!"
"A gray mutant? Diana, we have to stop it," Roland said. Good practice, according to his notes. A slow monster, but a heavy hitter. Those little stumps slowed it enough not to be a serious threat unless you were hurt, surrounded, or cornered. Still a dangerous beast capable of killing with a single strike.
"Are you insane? Roland, don't do it!"
"This is my chance. It's perfect. We take it out, and Dad will see that we're ready," Roland said.
Roland dashed to the monster. He pushed the forest's song away, fed it to the nothingness like Cid taught him. Mushin, peace, a state where only he and the enemy mattered. When he came within five feet of the monster, it swung its tentacle, a gray blur zooming at him, whooshing through the air. Roland managed to duck under it and keep charging forward. He smiled, until the left tentacle smashed his stomach and pushed him away, breathless. He tasted the outside's grass and soil for the first time, seasoned with a bit of sprinkled humiliation. A weak, frustrating flavor. Mushin was gone, supplanted by a fiery rage. He gritted his teeth and groaned, almost a roar.
Back on his feet, Roland spat out the grass and soil and rushed again, sword high and adrenaline pumping. For a moment he was his father, wielding the golden sword, and the beast was the dreaded Hector, destroyer of the world. A childish game, but Diana joined him in it. Tod would not play Hector this time.
Diana twirled around the dancing tentacles, stepping forward and then back. Roland circled the creature, glanced at Tod still banging and shouting, and rushed to the beast's back. He kicked the ground and sliced downward, but the wood slid off the creature's skin. He tried to stab the beast, but the wood cracked and bounced back. From the corner of his eye, Roland saw a tentacle fly at him. Sky and trees spun over his head, a roulette that ended on the empty sky. On his back, he rolled aside to evade a falling tentacle and pushed himself up.
"Diana! Keep it busy!" Roland shouted. He stepped on the tip of his sword with his left foot and stomped on the center with his right, snapping it. The splinters looked fine enough to stab the thing. Two steps to avoid the tentacle, and a jump to turn around the beast. Cid's drills worked wonders. He could hear echoes of Cid's voice: barking, laughing, correcting his mistakes. Roland kicked off with a jump and brought the half-sword down.
There was a wet sound, like a splash in a pool of thick, putrid liquid, and the crunching noise of the wood that broke on the monster's nape. Roland froze up in the monster's back, sweat running down his face. He held on to the monster's shoulder with his other hand and planted his feet on its lower back. Just as he started to believe it had worked, the creature twisted its head with the same wet noises and hissed at Roland. The sharp, yellow fangs of the thing came from everywhere inside the mouth, even from its lips. Dark holes with no end served as its eyes. Roland recoiled when a foul smell smacked him, but he held on. He pushed the wooden sword down, groaning and feeling the pressure in his shoulder. His efforts were rewarded with a sprinkle of blood flowing out of the stab wounds.
"Watch out!" Diana shouted and pulled him free.
Roland lurched and felt air burst out of his lungs as he smacked the ground, and Diana tasted the grass this time as she fell with him. Roland saw one of the monster tentacles swing around its body uncontrollably and — physics betraying the monster — coil around the beast's neck. The impact broke the sword's hilt to pieces and shoved countless splinters inside, summoning a deep howl from the depths of its stomach. Diana kicked the beast's stumpy leg while it was busy detangling itself, and it stumbled sideways. Roland stepped back and tackled it. The monster fell face-first and moaned in a guttural, almost-human voice. It struggled to get up, first pushing itself with its tentacles, but fell again, then pushing the ground with its legs. It had some success, but it was still kneeling.
Diana rushed to Tod and grabbed him, pulling him from the gate. The monster groaned on its knees, looking like a botched, dark stroke of ink over master artist's landscape.
"We have to run," she said. "It's going to kill us before someone comes!"
"Run where? Are you mad?" Tod said, almost a hiss. He pushed Diana away and turned back, but Roland grabbed his arm and spun him around. Roland saw how he was trembling, and how his eyes darted to everywhere but the monster.
Focus, Roland told himself. Focus, idiot. Mushin, emptiness. Thoughts raced each other as they were born. Ideas, some fresh, some old, flooded him. One by one he discarded them. What would Dad do? What would Cid do? If we run south, there should be — no. But west. If only we had weapons!
"Roland, Roland," Diana said. She shook his shoulder, and Roland snapped back. "It's getting up. What should we do?"
"Weapons. The guardhouse is a few paces south. There should be weapons there, or a guard," Roland said. "Diana goes first, then Tod. I'll be right behind. The house is white with red shingles. Best case, the guard's there. Worst case, there's a barista, I mean ballista — those gun-bow thingies — on the roof."
The monster charged at them. It ran with its body leaning forward and its tentacles waving behind in slow but sure strides. Roland nodded, and Diana ran toward it. She ducked under the first tentacle swing and dashed past it. Roland smirked when the monster turned its back on them and swung at Diana.
"Hurry, Tod, run while the monster tries to kill your sister!" Roland shouted and pushed Tod.
Tod muttered curses and ran past the distracted monster. Roland followed close behind. Shadows danced in the woods: trees swaying, rabbits and pigs frantically rushing out of their way, and birds flying off their nests.
After they rounded a grove of tall trees, the red shingles of the guardhouse shone like beacons for the lost. Tod tripped on a loose brick. Roland grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and urged him forward. No sudden rain, or even sinister clouds, during that tense moment; the sun shone brightly on them.
Ivy climbed over the red-bricked corners and the white walls of the safehouse, with purple and blue flowers growing under the glass window. Barrels rested by the side under the shade of a mango tree. Avocados grew behind the house, some hanging over the rooftop, others ripe and already on the ground.
A corpse dressed in leathers and irons sat splattered against the front wall, blood streaking over the white. Tod stooped over and gagged. Diana looked away, and Roland grimaced. Her name was Melany, a nice girl whose family had gone to the Capital a few years back. She had stayed behind to join the guard, just like her grandfather before he passed away. Her blonde hair was tainted by blood, and her face had been pushed inward. No smell yet, and the blood still dripped.
"I'll check the gun-bow thing," Diana said, rubbing her lips. She climbed a barrel and pulled herself using the steel chimney to reach the top. She pushed the ballista and moved it, pointing at the ground. "This thing's useless, Roland. No ammo, and it doesn't look like it will work."
"Tod, go inside and look for ammo. I'll distract it while you get that ready," Roland said. "I'm so sorry," he told the corpse and took a steel broadsword from her hand.
Roland felt his heartbeat stutter when he saw the monster emerge from the forest. His fingers and feet were cold. Yet he held the sword, weighting it and trying to figure out its center of gravity as the beast approached. A real sword. Cold and sharp steel.
"I got one!" Tod said. Roland startled; he had obeyed?
"Give it to me and get inside!" Diana shouted, her voice mingling with clicks and clacks. "I'm not sure how to use it!"
Too late for questions now. Roland engaged the monster. He rolled forward under a swipe, then twirled sideways to escape a savage downward smash. Twinges of pain blasted from his hip and left shoulder as he dashed to the monster. Two more swipes he dodged, but the third scraped his head. The monster took a step back and coiled its right tentacle, then shot it at Roland. It was too fast for him, and he knew at once how the thing killed Melany. The tentacle hit his stomach, and he felt his feet leave the ground and the borrowed sword fly away. He landed on a barrel in a nasty set of cracks and a storm of dust.
Clicks and clacks, the monster panting, and beyond those sounds, wind howling among the trees. It was almost peaceful. Fitting for a pitiful end. No. Roland staggered toward the sword and fell on his knees, forcing himself to crawl. He would not fall here. The sword moved farther away, or he slowed down. Whatever happened made his mouth dry as he crawled and clawed at the hilt. With a final push, Roland picked up the sword and took a step — pain flooded him and nailed him in place. Fear, a hand that grasped his throat and formed knots in his knees.
Whizzing through the air, the bolt stabbed the beast on its shoulder and kept flying until it impaled the ground, quivering and full of gray blood. The beast stumbled, and it went silent. Roland fought the dazing pain and pushed himself to rush and stab the monster. Clean hit, but the hard skin pushed the iron back. It took all the strength in his shoulders to push it, each inch sputtering dark blood, until something snapped inside, and the sword went out the other side. He tried to pull the sword back, but it was stuck. The gray blood oozing from the wound stank worse than what the sword would cost, so he let go. His dad would not agree, but Richard wasn't smelling the thing right then. As the monster fell, Roland stood rubbing his nose in silence.
Failed. Had Diana failed to use the ballista, he would be dead. Smashed against a wall. Goodbye Scavenger dreams. Roland gulped and gripped his hands to stop them from trembling. In the end, his father was right.
"Is it dead?" Tod asked. He refused to look at it, or at the guard's corpse. "Let's go back before Mom gets pissed off."
"You okay, Roland?" Diana asked.
"Fine," Roland said. "Nothing's broken. Nothing but my spirit, I guess."
"That thing hit you hard, are you sure?"
"Nutbrain is made sturdy to compensate for his lack of brains," Tod said.
"Oh, shut up. Come on, Roland, let me check," Diana said, fumbling with his shirt.
"I'm fine, really. Let's go back." Back to his prison, where he belonged.
II
Roland watched the shadows of the forest while sitting with Diana, his back to the Stronghold wall. He hugged his knees and smacked his head on the cold steel. Echoes of pain sang with those running across his body. Tod was playing around with rocks to his left, red-eyed and pale. They both knew they would get chewed out. In that regard, he felt pity for Tod. Clementine's fury was like a thousand suns compared to Richard's candle.
"I think we're ready for the exam. What else do we need to learn?" Diana said.
"I don't know," Roland said. "We can't use durandite, for one thing. We barely managed to survive versus one gray mutant. Just one."
"Durandite is too hard and not necessary. I mean, it's just throwing hard balls of wind in the end, isn't it? We can just bow and sword through our problems." Diana leaned back against the wall and stretched her legs. She sounded like she didn't believe that. For one thing, her aim was terrible. And so was his own.
"You can make yourself stronger and faster with it. It's necessary for Scavengers to survive. Remember the monster . . ." If I could control durandite, I would've finished it quickly, maybe, he thought with a grimace. A quick and strengthened stab, pushing myself with durandite. He sank further into his knees and sighed.
"Stop talking about dumb shit. What are we supposed to do now?" Tod asked, chucking the rocks at the forest. "If you guys hadn't gone outside, this shit wouldn't have happened, and I wouldn't have to listen to mom's bitching again."
"Dude, you closed the gates on us," Diana said. "It's your fault, all of it! I'll tell Mom you used me as bait for the monster, and that you called me names." She stuck her tongue out.
"Shut up, Diana, this is your fault! You and your little ass-kisser!"
"You almost got your sister killed, and all you care about is that you'll get scolded?" Roland asked. "And I am not an ass-kisser! You are the ass-kisser here, always kissing your own ass."
Tod stood up and walked to Roland. "I don't care about that stupid little traitor. She's too busy licking your face to care about her family. Stop talking about my family like you know us, rat."
"What?" Roland bolted up. "It's basic human decency! You don't get your sister and her friend in a life-or-death situation and then put the blame on them! You should at least apologize."
"Apologize to this," Tod said and raised his fist. He grabbed Roland's collar, but Roland stepped back and pulled Tod with him. Tod was taller, but they met eye to eye when Roland hauled him down. Roland grabbed Tod back and pulled farther.
"Guys, stop!" Diana shouted. She stood behind Roland and tugged at him, but Roland ignored her.
"I'm gonna break your teeth for being a liar," Tod threatened.
A gust of wind whooshed between them and exploded on the wall. Pulsating, heated wind emanated from the wall for a second. Roland let Tod go with a hiss, turning to the source of the magic strike. His uncle, Cid, wearing his usual parka, aviator glasses, and beanie — all dark. He towered over them, shaking his head. Even if his eyes were hidden, the way his jaw was set threatened anger. Or annoyance. That was worse in Cid. His anger vanished sooner.
"What are you guys doing outside?" he asked. Neither angry nor annoyed, but curious, thank God. Roland forced himself not to sigh with relief.
"It was Tod's fault," Roland said. "We were just looking and then Tod stepped out and let the gates close and then there was a monster."
"Monster. Right," Cid said. "Look, let's go inside first. Tell me everything then." Cid fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a set of keys. He inserted one and pushed, pulling them back from the hole and shoving them again. "This crap doesn't work like it should, damn it. Someone needs to come fix this before they swing open on their own." The gates clicked three times, and Cid pulled one of them open. "Come on, we all got some explaining to do."
III
The crowd threatened to swallow them again. Cid parted it as he walked through, his tall shadow breaking way as it passed over the people. Sometimes Roland wondered how it felt to be able to see over everyone's head. Cid just said he could see the top of the fridge, and he never approved of what he saw there. Tod lagged, his hands in his pockets and eyes downcast. He mumbled about the gates opening and how close they were to something Roland couldn't hear.
"I mean, if anything, it's all my fault," Diana told Cid. "I pressured Roland, and Tod always follows me around. I should've known better, but I still insisted. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, yeah, Richard will decide that. I'm just — There's Wallace," Cid said.
Wallace stood with the group of Scavengers that Roland saw in the morning. Muscular, with long, brown hair tied back and a full beard, he looked like a warrior talking to his underlings. His loose tunic and leather armor reinforced that image. Roland captured it for a drawing. Wallace turned to Cid and smiled, opening his arms.
"My man," he said and gave Cid a hug. "It's been too long. Roland? Hey!" He walked to Roland and ruffled his hair, then shook his hand. "Are you keeping up with your studies? You must forgive me for not coming more often. Things have been hectic at the Abode."
"Kinda."
"Hah, you better be. It's good to see you, kiddo."
Roland nodded and forced a smile. The pains from the battle bit at him.
"You up for a game of chess later?"
"Sounds good," Roland said. He bit his lip. It would be a good distraction, but . . . "Nah, it sounds great, count me in."
"Perfect. I'll talk with your dad and then come play." He stretched. "Long ride. Lead me, Cid."
They left. Roland stood in the hallway as his uncle and teacher got swallowed by the crowd. Tod disappeared soon after. Diana hesitated, then turned to him.
"So? What now?"
"Play with Wallace, get told off by Dad later it seems. I need a moment for myself. See you later."
With a nod, Diana was off, mingling with the surge of people. Faceless people coming and going and chattering. Their hundreds of aromas overwhelmed him, of sweat and wood and leather and every fruit under God's kingdom made into perfume. Roland headed toward his room like an arrow being shot in the dark.