"Do you know what's in this bag?" he asked.

"I haven't the slightest idea," said Mr. Ratikan, though the shape and size of the bag was very similar to what Lord Phineus had, he thought, taken back to the Highlands.

Briney opened the bag, taking care not to disturb its contents. He took a stick from the ground and dipped it in the cup, then into the bag. Mr. Ratikan gasped when he saw the stick was covered in an orange dust. Briney handed the stick to Charles and tied the bag once more.

"You act as though you might be thirsty," said Charles. He slurped from the cup and smacked his wet lips together. "Can I offer you some water?"

Mr. Ratikan thought for a moment that his thirst might finally be quenched after a long, dry day against the tree.

"I haven't had a drop all day," he said.

Charles dipped the end of the stick in the water, the orange dust swirling in the cup, then he held the cup under Mr. Ratikan's chin, where he could reach it with his mouth.

"Get that away from me! I won't drink it! I won't!" It had become clear to Mr. Ratikan that these men were in possession of the leaves and dust from the grove. They knew what he had done. How did Lord Phineus allow the bag to find its way into the hands of grove workers?

"I'm going to ask you once more," said Charles, holding the cup a few inches from Mr. Ratikan's face. "Did you poison two men from the grove?"

"It was Lord Phineus's doing! He made me do it!"

It didn't take very long for the three men to hear from Mr. Ratikan what Lord Phineus had planned to do with the bag of orange dust. As they walked back to the house to tell the others, Mr. Ratikan couldn't help thinking to himself, Lord Phineus will be furious. What will he do to me?

The men in the Highlands grew weary of a curious boy lingering about, and soon they forgot about Samuel, for they had the business of a potential war to handle. Samuel felt a small thrill as he escaped from view, hidden in the tall trees before the edge of the Highlands. He stayed in the trees all day and wished more than once that he had brought a book to pa.s.s the time.

When night came, Samuel was out of water, and he decided to search for the channel. He fought his way through the tall yellow gra.s.s until he grew tired of the effort and veered toward the edge of the Highlands once more. When at last he reached the end of the golden field, he parted the gra.s.s and found he was close to the top of the waterfall. There he saw a figure standing in the water.

It was a man, and though the light was faint, Samuel could see that it was Lord Phineus. He was standing in the middle of the channel close to the drop, the water slowly rippling past his knees, pouring the powdery contents of an open bag into the water before him. When the bag was almost half empty he stopped, tied it shut, and stepped out of the water on the other side of the channel.

As if just an apparition, Lord Phineus slipped quietly through the tall gra.s.s and disappeared, leaving Samuel to wonder where he'd gone and what he could have possibly been up to.

The three men walked toward the house, ducking under limbs as they made their way through the grove. Charles and Briney were talkative as they went, but Wallace remained quiet, and the two men began to wonder about their new friend. They didn't realize he had spent countless days in a field of sheep without speaking a word, and this made him thoughtful in nature.

"Are you alright, Wallace?" asked Briney. Wallace motioned to his companions to stop.

"You know, Charles, your trick with the dust in that bag has given me an idea," said Wallace. He scratched his wild red beard with the back of his hairy hand and continued.

"I've been stewing on it all night. How can we use what's in the bag without spreading it among ourselves? We can't grab handfuls to throw in the faces of any attackers. It's not a very practical weapon."

"I agree," answered Briney. "It seems as dangerous to us as it is to them. At least Lord Phineus can't use it against us as he had planned."

"But the way you dipped that stick in the water and then in the bag," said Wallace. "That's given me an idea. Couldn't we do the same thing with a black fig?"

Briney was beginning to understand. "Why, that's brilliant!" he said. "The dust would dry on the fig, and we could use the slings to throw them wherever we want!"

Charles interjected with a dose of truth. "None of us knows how to use a sling. We're as likely to throw a poison fig at one another as we are apt to hit the approaching enemy."

This took a little of the wind out of Briney's excitement, but Wallace was undeterred. "Then we best be getting back quickly," said Wallace. "That daughter of yours has some teaching to do, and we've got precious little time to learn."

The three men hurried through the grove to find Isabel and put Wallace's inspiration to the test. As they were nearing the village, Briney inquired whether or not Charles knew a remarkable boy named Edgar.

"Yes! He's an orphan of the grove, a very hard worker. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him about of late."

"He's gone in search of something," said Briney.

"What do you mean? You've talked to the boy?" asked Charles.

"I have. You'll never believe where he's gone off to. You'll think I've made it up."

The three men didn't know it, but everything they discussed was heard by someone hiding in the grove nearby. Isabel had put the children to work and wondered where her father had gone. She knew the grove as well as Edgar knew the cliffs and could slip between trees as quiet as a whisper. She listened as Briney told of Edgar's encounter with the man from the Highlands, how Edgar had torched the man's hair off, and how her friend had gone over the edge to the Flatlands below.

Isabel crept away unheard and unseen before they could discover her missing. Her friend had gone too far this time, she knew. She wondered if she would ever see Edgar again.

CHAPTER.

20.

CLEANERS.

It may be difficult to see at first glance, but Edgar had actually gotten an equal measure of bad and good luck all at once. It was a stroke of screaming misfortune that he'd come upon a place to where a group of unsavory creatures with enormous mouths and rows of crooked teeth had escaped. It was also true he'd fallen twice-being hurt both times-and that the creatures lurking nearby wanted to eat him.

But it must be said that Edgar's good luck greatly outweighed his bad, for there was a hunter who had been tracking these dangerous and unpredictable beasts from a distance for many hours. He was a grave-looking man whose hair was thinning on top, though what hair he did have grew long and tangled over his ears. He was dressed in dark clothing that made him hard to see, save for his very wide, hooklike nose that curved toward his face. The man's name was Vincent.

In the waning light of day, Vincent saw Edgar scaling down the side of the cliff and wondered with utter astonishment how anyone could have made it so far-and why they might have come to begin with. He had no way of knowing how old the figure was, but he wrongly a.s.sumed it to be a man who was either bringing trouble with him or who was in some trouble of his own. He proceeded with great caution, unsure of whether or not the greater threat were the creatures he was stalking or this unknown person making his way down to the Flatlands.

After Edgar's spectacular fall, it crossed Vincent's mind to let the creatures do away with the intruder, but it was not in Vincent's nature to permit such a cruel act. And then there was the matter of the creatures themselves, who were p.r.o.ne to losing all sense of direction in the dark-there was no telling whether or not their gruesome mouths would stumble onto Edgar. It would be best to keep with the plan. He would kill the four beasts first-and then he would deal with the fallen body.

The four beasts were what Vincent called Cleaners. There will be plenty of time to talk more of them later, for they are terribly important dwellers of Atherton. For now we must remain uneasy in the presence of these beasts, each about the length of two grown men, with a great many legs and teeth that rattle like broken bones.

Vincent had killed Cleaners many times before, but he had to be careful not to make a mistake, or there could be quite a lot of trouble. He used a long spear with a very sharp point, but even so, he always waited until it was almost dark to do his ghastly work.

What made it possible to attack a Cleaner without daylight was the fact that these creatures, while dreadful to look at and vicious in the extreme, were rather stupid in just about every way imaginable. They may have been very fast on their many legs, but they weren't smart enough to change course when a spear was pointed right at their throats, and on they'd charge, crooked teeth flying toward him at ferocious speed, until they were skewered clean through.

There are three things a hunter must remember when encountering Cleaners: 1: WITHOUT A SPEAR, THERE'S ALMOST NO CHANCE OF SURVIVING AN ENCOUNTER WITH A PACK OF CLEANERS. NEVER LEAVE HOME WITHOUT AT LEAST ONE SPEAR TIED TO YOUR BACK, TWO IF YOU CAN MANAGE IT.

2: NEVER ATTACK MORE THAN ONE CLEANER AT THE SAME TIME. IF THERE ARE THREE OR FOUR, THEY WILL ALL COME AT ONCE FROM DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS. WHILE YOU MIGHT KILL ONE OR TWO, THE OTHER ONES MAY EAT SOME PART OF YOUR BODY THAT YOU'D ALMOST CERTAINLY PREFER TO KEEP. IT'S BEST TO LURE THEM APART, AND THEN ATTACK THEM ONE BY ONE.

3: IF YOU DETECT THEM FROM FAR OFF-AND THIS IS COMMON, FOR THEY ARE VERY LOUD ABOUT THEIR BUSINESS-STALK THEM QUIETLY UNTIL NIGHT, FOR THEY HAVE TERRIBLE SIGHT WHEN THE WORLD GOES DARK. CLEANERS ALSO HAVE TROUBLE HEARING, FEELING, AND SMELLING AFTER DARK, FURTHER INCREASING THE ODDS OF SUCCESS.

Vincent had followed each of the rules, and so he had no trouble at all slaying the first two Cleaners. He simply walked up to them and put the spear through their open mouths. Unfortunately for Vincent, by the time he got to the third one it had gotten darker, and as a result his margin of error had grown. When he thrust his spear, it glanced off to the right and only injured the Cleaner, causing it to thrash about with an earsplitting shriek.

This startled both the remaining Cleaner and Edgar, the latter of whom woke up and began making a lot of noise of his own. First there was a shout and then cries of pain, which Vincent as sumed were the result of the fourth Cleaner eating one of the climber's legs or arms. Vincent became alarmed when he heard Edgar's voice, aware for the first time that it was a boy and not a man who had fallen into the Flatlands. If the boy were in serious trouble with a Cleaner, which it appeared that he was, Vincent would never forgive himself. A meddling man from above was one thing, but an innocent boy was something entirely different and unexpected.

Vincent flew into action. It was dangerous work because the injured Cleaner flopped on the ground violently in every direction, the teeth searching for something to latch onto, but he quickly finished off the third Cleaner with a series of brutal blows to the head.

The last of the Cleaners had moved off a little and had become still in the darkness. Vincent listened carefully for the sound of teeth grinding and chattering. The beast was looking at him, though it could not see. It was instinctively chomping its teeth in the air to protect itself.

"What is that thing?" It was Edgar, who had jumped up and moved behind Vincent in the dark. The sound of Edgar's voice sent the Cleaner charging toward them, and Vincent had to act quickly to stop it.

"Hold onto that question for a moment, if you would," said Vincent, pushing Edgar away. "I can't let this one escape."

The Cleaner charged past and turned, wasting no time in a second attack. This time Vincent was ready, and when the sound of breaking bones came directly at him, loud and fast, he aimed, thrust, and finished the last of the Cleaners.

At last Vincent could turn to face Edgar. In the darkness he could barely make out the boy's features, though he could see his eye was swollen as though he'd been hit.

"How did you get down here?" asked Vincent. He looked up toward Tabletop in wonder. "It's impossible. No one's ever done that before."

Edgar sat down with exhaustion. The stump where his pinky used to be was pulsing with pain, but his shoulder bothered him even more.

"You didn't make it here in one piece," said Vincent. "When did you lose the finger?"

At first, when Edgar had seen Vincent fighting the Cleaners, the man had seemed wild and violent. But now Edgar saw that Vincent had a kind face. Beneath the hooked nose, in the darkness, Edgar could make out a thin but earnest smile.

Edgar told Vincent how he had fallen in the night, how his little finger had been torn free, and of his crippling shoulder injury. Vincent nodded knowingly.

"I can tell that the bone has been pulled from its socket. Will you let me have a look at it? I have certain skills that may be of some use."

With Edgar's approval, Vincent took the damaged arm in his hand and moved it slowly from side to side. Edgar cried out, but Vincent managed to get the arm up over Edgar's head.

"Lie down, won't you?" asked Vincent. Edgar was delirious with pain and fatigue, and he simply fell over onto his side. Vincent stood over Edgar and held the arm out straight, shifting it until he was satisfied it was in the right place and then, with sudden force and speed, he pushed down the arm. There was a loud pop, and Edgar screamed.

The shoulder was back in place, and Edgar had gone limp, which were the two things that Vincent had hoped for. The boy was feverish, he'd lost blood, and his body was seriously weakened from lack of food or water. He picked up Edgar, and it shocked him to realize how little the boy weighed.

"What are you doing down here?" Vincent wondered aloud, though he knew Edgar wouldn't hear him. His eyes ran up the monstrous wall of rock leading to Tabletop, and then lowered to marvel at the boy in his arms. Vincent shook his head. Could he really have come all this way?

What followed was a long night journey in which Edgar remained asleep but alive in the arms of a man of the Flatlands, taking him to a place he could not have imagined.

CHAPTER.

21.

SIR EMERIK'S SURPRISE

Upon their return to the village, Briney, Charles, and Wallace were pleased to find a dozen children sitting on the ground in a circle around Isabel, each of them hard at work making slings. While they watched, two young boys approached from behind with bags full of black figs.

"We've made another nineteen slings in the past hour and we're getting faster," said Isabel. "They'll work all night if they have to, won't you?" She gazed at the group around her and they all nodded. A tiny boy who couldn't have been more than five walked into the circle carrying a handful of leathery squares.

"Twenty more rabbit skins for you," said the boy, pleased with his progress. He handed them around the circle, and the children began tying them to the braided ropes as Isabel had taught them to do.

"Can they work without you?" asked Isabel's father, aware that hundreds of slings would be made in the night, perhaps more than they could find use for. He had picked up a sling to examine it. "It's time we began training some of the adults how to use one of these."

Isabel was pleased to comply and she left with the men, leaving the others of her age to gawk at the way she moved among adults in a time of danger.

All through the night, hundreds of people streamed into the grove from the Village of Rabbits and the Village of Sheep. Some spent hours dipping figs into water and dust with sheepskin sheaths over their hands, filling bag after bag with encrusted black stones. About a hundred learned to use a sling with reasonable skill under Isabel's direction, while others took to wrapping a hand in rabbit skin for protection and practiced throwing the black figs.

When morning came, the villagers returned to their broken houses, everyone carrying a bag of crusted black figs and a sling or a rabbit skin. In the light of a new day, everyone could see how close the Highlands had come, so close that the majestic trees near the edge seemed like a wall of intimidating guardsmen just a fig's throw away. The villagers had agreed to take shelter under the rubble of their homes. If they needed to go outside, they were instructed to act as though they were feeling ill. But it was hard not to look up with awe at the ruling land they'd never known.

In the Village of Sheep, Wallace worried over his animals, as shepherds often do. It was a green place at the foot of the cliffs, sleepy and peaceful. The trembling had become so constant that his animals didn't seem to notice it any longer. It was the only place outside the grove where gra.s.s was allowed to grow. But still he paced back and forth, scratching his hairy red belly, calming the animals with his gentle voice.

"Don't you worry now," he said. "I won't let anything bad happen. I've learned to use a sling. I can protect you." He drifted into a silent meditation, waiting for the Highlands to arrive.

Lord Phineus felt a certain unease as the morning broke, and he looked down over the edge of the Highlands. Since last evening, the fall had progressed even faster than he'd imagined, and so he was glad to have gone about his business at the three waterfalls in the night. Everyone would get their cup of water as the sun rose and he would command them in their illness to stay back. It would give him time to impose his will on a changed world. These thoughts eased his mind as he moved away from the edge.

He, Sir Emerik, and Sir Philip were stationed somewhere between the Village at the Grove and the Village of Rabbits, and all three of them were sitting atop horses, something with which Sir Emerik was exceedingly uncomfortable. He had never liked horses very much and hadn't taken the time to learn how to ride in the same way that Sir Philip had. It annoyed Sir Emerik immensely to look over at Sir Philip and see him in command of his steed.

"We are fully prepared, then?" asked Lord Phineus.

"Yes. Absolutely prepared, sir," replied Sir Philip. Sir Emerik reeled around on his horse in an effort to get closer to the two of them but quickly found that he was facing the wrong way, and the b.u.t.t of his animal got the better position. The scabs and missing hair on his head made him look even more ridiculous.

"Get off the horse, Sir Emerik," said Lord Phineus. "If you can."

Lord Phineus was in an uncommonly jolly mood as he conferred with his men. He seemed content astride the animal, about to come face-to-face with a world that had previously been beneath him.

Sir Philip proceeded to give a last a.s.sessment of the strategy he would employ while Sir Emerik dismounted and held the reins on his horse, glad to be on two feet again.

"There are forty men on horses above each of the three villages," he began. "They are trained in the use of a spear and have been instructed to attack at the slightest provoca tion, Lord."

"That's all very well," said Lord Phineus. "But you may discover I've already subdued them for you."