Tom watched, as long as he could, his friends dwindle in the distance until they were entirely lost from view. Even Jake's enormous bulk was lost in the shadow of the mountain.

We really should come up with a name for our home, something more than Mountain! Tom thought wistfully.

He pondered the riddle for the first couple of days as they trekked along the golden river of sand. No stone or rock provided any break in the monotony of travel, and Tom began to wonder if they were trapped in an endless loop ever repeating, except their home slowly dwindled behind them as they went on.

During one of their many rest breaks along their trek, Tom decided to explore deeper than the surface. He left the others resting in the shade of a cactus and returned to the riverbed.

Shutting his eyes, Tom took a deep breath through his nose and let it out. Again and again he smelt the air, letting the motions sooth and orient him on his task.

Steady now, steady, he told himself.

A trickle of energy, like a thin thread visible only to his mind's eye, appeared in front of him and meandered slowly down to the sand. It seemed to hesitate a moment on the surface as if looking for something, then burrowed it's slow way into the earth like a worm setting itself to dig through the rock of the mountain. The thread acted like another hand, feeding sensations back to Tom that he catalogued and studied. Sand had a dry, grainy texture similar to sugar, while any rock he encountered was firm and solid like, well like rock, he admitted to himself with a chuckle.

Abruptly the feelings changed; it became similar to sticking a hand in a pond or other water. Excitedly, he probed deeper and discovered there was water under the sand, flowing steadily along the bedrock of the earth in gentlest fashion. Yet the trickle of water was so small, so minuscule, that all of it would hardly satisfy him, let alone the large river that was needed. But at least it was a sign that there would be water found at the source of the river.

Releasing the energy, he made his way back to the others who had gotten up and were walking towards the river again. He relayed what he'd found.

"That sounds encouraging." Stacy said. "At least we know that there is something along that will supply water, the question is, how much?""

"I can't tell from here." Tom replied. "The water is so little that either there isn't much at the source, or we are a very long ways away."

"Well, Mausi thinks it's a two or three week journey just to get to the mountains, which could explain it." Stacy had a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Right." Mausi nodded. "We will not see the mountains for sixteen days past the Mountain of the Sleeping God, though we usually pass many days journey westward from it, not having any desire to get closer to such a cursed place."

"What makes you think our mountain's cursed? Stacy asked with a smile. "Jake's friendly enough, and he says he hadn't been disturbed in slumber until you showed up in our cave last week."

"It is an old legend." Mausi said uncomfortably.

"Well, we still have many long miles to put behind us, and a story would help them pass." Stacy pointed out.

Mausi sighed regretfully, it seemed to Tom, but almost immediately began speaking. It was almost a chant, and it seemed hard for her to render it in English, but the words flowed easily and soon they were lost in the story.


Flint-fist was a warrior strong; of him had been sung many a song; but he decided to face the mountain lone; and so come to find his people a home

He journeyed into the east; walking past tall forest filled with many a beast; until at last he came to the place where none dared dwell, and could see the mountain's swell

He traveled up its stony slope; within his breast beat a hope; that soon his journey would be over; and his people could homeward go

Yet near the top he found a cave; and what he found inside none can say; he came running down the mountain tall; full of fear, hearing death's call;

At last he left the land behind; vowing never again to return


"Well, that's a part of the lay at least. But we would need many long hours to tell it properly, and a knowledge of my language, as it is hard to render into English speech."

"That's all right." Tom assured her. "I think I can get enough to figure out what happened."

Stacy nodded.

Everyone fell silent as they continued to march.


Later that night they pitched camp and slept deeply, taking turns at watch until the sky started to lighten. Then they had a light breakfast of herbs and berry, while Mausi ate some dried jerky; the making of which was a secret she would not share, but when Tom sampled it he thought it one of the best pieces of jerky he'd ever had.

They marched all day through the blazing sun, taking frequent breaks and taking tiny sips of water. Occasionally Tom would replenish their stock with water he pulled from the ground itself, keeping their skins full at all times. At night they would rest around a blazing fire to ward off the chill and keep "night dangers" at bay, Mausi said. Tom figured she was speaking about wild animals or something, and did not suspect otherwise until their sixth evening.

Mausi did not pitch camp in the soft sand of the riverbed like usual, instead she traveled some distance to the West of the river and came upon a tall hill crowned with a ring of tall stone blocks, close set grey sentinels that allowed only three gaps between them into a center circle. Here they found the remains of a camp, with dried roots and scrub stacked and ready to burn, wooden stakes cut about five feet long and sharpened to a point on either end. One point was made for ramming into the ground, the other, with a support twig, made a dangerous barrier to any seeking to pass by. These she placed immediately in the slots between stones to bar passage, saying no word as she did so.

Tom, concerned, flew to the top of the ring and discovered that the tops of each of the stones had been treated to their own crown of thorns, with small stakes set into holes in such fashion as to remind him of the anti-bird defenses of light poles in his own time. He couldn't help but notice, however, that many of these thorns were broken and shattered, leaving only splinters. He flew back down and told Mausi who looked concerned.

"We do not have anything left to repair those defenses."

"Why should we need such defenses?" Stacey asked. "You've played tonight awfully close to the chest, Mausi. I think it's time you came clean and told us what all this is about: you've made this hill into a sturdy fortress capable of withstanding a major assault. That's far more than the case of a hungry predator or two running around."

"Right." Tom nodded.

Mausi stared at them as if they'd grown another head. She shook hers and muttered something in her own language, then spoke clearly in common tongue. "I'm sorry, I forgot that you've not seen the nights in a very long time." She pointed skyward and Tom glanced up to see hundreds of stars burning cold and bright in the deepening sky. "The daughter1 of the Sun does not show her white shield tonight, keeping the land bright and safe. She has turned to face forces outside the planet, and evil things take advantage of her duty. They roam the surface at will on such nights, killing and taking all they can before she can return to her charge of watching over the good to sleep.

We must be well and truly safe before any sleep can be had, and we must take careful watches through the night, for we will be attacked. They will fear fire, but it is a double-edged knife; it will also attract them like moths to a flame."

"Who?" Tom asked.

Here Mausi shrugged helplessly and said words in her own tongue that sounded like a barking dog to Tom's ear. "I'm sorry,"" she said when she spoke again in English, "but I do not know the words for them in this tongue. Perhaps Annabel or Gavin might know."

"That's all right." Stacey comforted her. "We get the gist of it. There is something intelligent and armed out there that does not love the light or warmth and seeks to harm us. That is enough for me to understand these precautions."

While Mausi finished arranging the defenses to her satisfaction, Tom and Stacey used their magic to start the fire and boil water for a weak tea. They shared a frugal supper and then Tom volunteered to take the first watch.

"Very well. Keep your eyes open and rouse me the moment we are attacked." Mausi yawned, obviously too tired to care.

"I will." Tom said.

"You sound so certain that we will be attacked." Stacey frowned.

Mausi shrugged. "It is certain that they will." She said. "For there are very many of the enemy, and they rule the darkest nights absolutely. There is one place they do not travel, and that is near the Mountain of the Sleeping God, because it is cursed."


"Who do you think 'they' are?" Stacey asked Tom after an hour had passed on his watch. She had been resting on Mausi's arm, cuddled like a strange doll with jeweled wings. Now, she was looking up from her reclined position, looking comfortable, but not sleepy.

Tom shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not sure." He whispered back. "Cassandra''s warnings come back to my mind, so perhaps it's her descendants that are causing the problems? "

Stacey was quiet for a few minutes, her face cast in flickering shadow. Tom wished he could tell what she was thinking, but he didn't have to worry because she soon told him.

"I don't think that is the case. Cassandra could move in daylight easily, as well as moonshine: The light didn't bother her eyes. I doubt that her brood would have lost that ability at all. They may like the dark and shun the light, but it would not stop them, especially if they are hungry or angry."

"True enough, but what do you think it might be?" Tom asked in return. "If I had to hazard a guess, I should say that it is unlike anything we''ve faced before, which makes me wonder."

He fell silent for several minutes, pondering his guesses as memories of fruitless hunts and vicious battles flickered through his mind. He was jolted out of his musings by Stacey's voice.  

"What does it make you wonder?"

"Hmm? What was that? Oh, well I wonder if there was more work by the stores in our absence. We had clearly played our part at the time, which means that the two stores were likely active, Roland and Melinda's shops I mean."

"I know who you mean." Stacey interrupted with a shudder. "And I don't like your inferences. We never did discover them when we searched for them, did we? Not even when they were sheltering Cassandra."

"That we did not." Tom agreed. "But that does not mean they went underground. Perhaps other people were changed as well, and our battle was but a small part of a greater war that ended with the extinction of mankind as we knew it."

"But what happened to the changed folk?" Stacey wanted to know. "Did they all die as well, or did they go into hiding as well?""

Tom shrugged helplessly. "We're speculating here far beyond what could be considered logical or likely. Perhaps both stayed quiet and there isn't anyone else besides us. Perhaps only Melinda kept up her pattern of attacks. I don't know, I...I just don't know." He finished quietly. A churning feeling in his gut spiked heat in his cheeks and he turned away from Stacey to clear his head and look out instead on the walls.

That is why he noticed the movement outside the barrier, of something slinking around light cast by the campfire. At once he flew up high to get a look at what was happening.

Dim shape in the shadow were moving rapidly and drawing close to the brambles that formed the doorway into camp, getting very close to them as the light faded from the fire. Tom tried to make out any details, but the gloom defeated him. He did think they looked remarkably like Brissons themselves, and wondered briefly why they weren't simply announcing themselves, either with words or gunfire.

He bolted back down to Stacey, but she had already flew into the air, leaving Mausi still asleep next to the fire.

"What is it?" she asked Tom quietly. He told her what he had seen.

"That can't be," Stacey frowned. "Brissons wouldn''t be afraid of fire, unless...mudmen!" she gasped.

Tom's mind had also flashed in that direction and he nodded grimly. "Makes sense, and would explain their fear of fire."

Stacey half turned to the brambles, which were starting to shake as the creatures attempted to pull them stealthily out. "There isn't anything we can do for them now." She said regretfully. "We shall have to fight, Tom."

"Right." Tom nodded, watching the doorways closely. "I will summon up the water below the hill to wash them away, perhaps that will convince them to move on to better pickings elsewhere."

He started to reach down into the soil with his magic, the familiar feeling of having stuck his finger in a light socket starting to buzz in his mind.

"No Tom!" Stacey cried. "Use the water to feed my plants!" and with that she tossed a tiny seed into the air, her palm already glowing with green light.

Tom's eyes tracked the seed, noting where it had fallen, and sent his water over there, although he wondered if it wouldn't be better to use it at the nearly open doorway.

Whatever he'd thought or been about to do, fell from his thoughts like trash dropped into a compacter. The seed erupted with the power of a volcano, vines shooting out faster than thought as they closed all the gaps in the stones with the speed of a striking rattlesnake. But the vines did not stop there, they continued up high above them, forming a dome that closed the entire campsite in a solid structure that grew thicker even as Tom watched. Howls of rage and shock could be heard outside, but they were muffled and dim, like someone yelling through a brick wall with no windows or doors. Yet the space was not dark: apart from the dwindling campfire, pink, gold, blue, red and even aquamarine flowers budded and bloomed, each giving off a light in the color of the blossom with the intensity of a glow bulb. So many bloomed that it Tom''s eyes smarted and took a moment to adjust.

"That should hold them." Stacey said quietly. Her shoulders sagged with weariness, but she flew proud and erect as she surveyed her handiwork.

Tom marveled at the wonders wrought in the campsite, then looked down at the roots of the plant. His water was being drunk out of the soil faster than he could bring it up, it seemed, and he increased the flow until the soil changed color. Releasing the magic, he sighed, feeling the energy leave him. He felt tired now, tired as if he'd been working all day and now was ready for bed.

"We should sleep." Stacey yawned. "The plants will keep us safe, and the creatures, whatever they are, will not break in.""

"You know something," Tom muttered, yawning. "I think those creatures reminded me more of the old stories of goblins and such. At least, the ones in the far back did, farthest from the lights. They certainly looked different than the ones closest to us and actually at the door."

"We'll ask Mausi more questions tomorrow." Stacey said sleepily, curling up in the crook of Mausi's arm.

Tom looked down at her with a smile, feeling a pang of jealousy against Mausi, which was absurd, he told himself. Still, he couldn't shake the longing to feel Stacey curl up against him, feeling her body press against his and find comfort in his arms.

With a sigh, he searched for a comfortable place to sleep, but couldn't find any place near the fire that looked comfortable. In the end, he noticed that the top of Mausi's bent head was level enough to function as a place to sleep.

No, you could disturb her. A little voice warned.

How would she even know? You're small and light, she'd never even notice. Another egged.

That may be, but it's not right to take advantage of a woman like that; and besides, you've slept on the ground plenty of times before.

But it's been a long time, and you may be sleeping on the ground soon enough anyway.

So why not start now? You can get yourself in a bit of training.

You're small, tiny. Insects and birds may consider you lunch, not to mention coyotes and any other critter that walks and eats small prey. Tom shivered at that thought. He'd slept on the ground before, but other creatures didn''t bother him because he was a human and usually carried a gun. But now he'd be at danger for anything that ate large bugs or small mice, leaving vast possibilities for those that would endanger him.

Decided, he settled as lightly as he could in Mausi's soft fur. He waited long seconds to see if he had disturbed her rest, but she only continued her soft breathing and he guessed that she remained asleep. Comforted, he relaxed and let himself start to drift away. He cocked a blurry eye towards the plants and saw that they were thriving, and getting stronger with every passing minute. He fell asleep, comforted at the thick walls.