Jon told the Professor and Tam about seeing the pickpocket on the train but did not mention seeing the great black wing.  He didn’t want the Professor to think he was telling stories, and Jon was unsure himself of just what he thought he had seen.

            Tam was excited at the news about the thief.  “If I see the little sneak about, I’ll make him give up that watch right enough,” he declared.

            “Was your pocket watch terribly valuable?” Jon asked the Professor.

            “I confess I don’t really know,” the Professor replied.  “I myself treasured it.  It was a gift from a good friend.  But it was a thing only, not the friendship itself, and all things are transitory.”  The Professor touched something near his collar, and Jon noted than he wore something strung about his neck, under his shirt. 

            “I won’t be able to sleep a wink,” Tam grumbled.  “Thieving foreigners all over the place.  We should keep alert, and take turns at sleeping.”

            “I think we can be reasonably safe by taking the precaution of locking our compartment in the night hours,” the Professor said.

            Tam still insisted on staying vigilant, but the rest of the long journey passed uneventfully, without signs of thieves or any more mysteries.

            The train pulled at last into their station under a blazing midday sun.  The land about was hot and dry, with a few gnarled and wind blasted trees and strange tumbled rock formations in the distance.  The station stood at the center of a small sun-baked town of clay-daubed buildings and canvas awnings.  Among the buildings, people went about all in foreign clothes, mostly robes and bright headscarves.  Women carried very large and heavy looking baskets on their heads, while small children ran to and fro in dirty tunics or in nothing at all.  Leaning out the compartment window, Jon smelled bad smells and good smells and all sorts of very new but very old smelling aromas in the hot air.  Being home in Shandor smelled like clover and horses and little streams and cool winds tumbling down from the mountains to tell one about the cedars and pines they passed.  Alarna smelled like spices and strange foods and sweaty people in very hot sun and perfume and old crumbly mud walls.  It wasn’t crowded like Merigvon, where the crowd never ceased, but as the train pulled in it suddenly became crowded like an anthill.  Carts pulled up and workmen bustled to unload one of the freight cars even as the train came to a full stop.  Children crowded up around the train, calling out in languages Jon did not know, or perhaps in accents too thick for him to understand. 

“Stay close to me as we disembark,” the Professor said.  “There should be someone waiting for us.” 

The hot wind hit Jon as he, Tam and the Professor stepped off the train onto a dusty platform, and Jon had to squint his eyes against it.  He gripped the Professor’s hand, so as not to lose him.

            “Eabrey!” the clear and pleasant voice of a woman exclaimed. “We’re over here.” 

            Jon turned, still squinting a little, to see a small greeting party waving at them from under a large green sun parasol.  The woman who had addressed the Professor by his first name was very pretty and wore clothing finer and more fashionable than anything Jon’s mother owned.  She looked like something from the papers, with a pile of dark copper-colored hair pinned up on her head and a brimmed hat with feathers.  Her face was merry and freckled and she waved an ungloved hand at them.  Beside her were two children, a boy with spectacles who looked only a little taller and older than Jon, and a small girl with a solemn face and ribbons in her long black hair.

            The Professor brightened.  “Hellin, how good of you to meet us.”  He led the boys down off the platform to stand before the lady.  “Lady Blackfeather, may I introduce you to Tam and Jon Gardner, of Markerry, Shandor.”

            Tam nodded his head to the lady, a little awed, and Jon did the same, “Lady,” he said, not sure how best to address her.

            She smiled at them both.  “Call me Hellin.  It’s lovely to meet you at last.  How was your journey?  Set those bags down at once.  Porter! Do please put these in the carriage, thank you.  This way.  Would you gentleman care to stop for some refreshment before we head for the dig?  We shall.”  Lady Blackfeather herded them all about as quickly as she had the porters, not giving them time to respond past nods and murmurs.  The spectacled boy gave Jon and Tam a friendly grin.  They all found themselves bundled past reaching children and loud merchants who shoved their wares forward in handfuls, into a shop across the street.  Jon tumbled down into a chair beside Tam’s.  He found himself exchanging an awkward stare with the girl with hair ribbons across from him, before a waiter set a tall pitcher of mint water and a platter of sandwiches between them.

            Across the room, the Professor guided Lady Blackfeather aside and they spoke too quietly to be heard by the children.  The boy with spectacles took the opportunity to address Jon. “You’re Jon, right?  I’m Djaren Blackfeather.”  Djaren had straight dark hair tied back in a tail like the Professor’s and green eyes, bright and eager behind his spectacles.  He grinned at Jon.  “I read your essay.  I thought it rather brilliant.  I’m so glad you’ve come.”

            Jon blinked, startled.  “I, I’m glad you liked it.  I didn’t know Doctor Blackfeather had children.”

            “Well, he does, and we’re them.”  Djaren grinned again. 

A small pale hand pushed the plate of sandwiches a few inches to the left, and the serious girl with hair ribbons peered at Jon again.

“This is my sister Ellea.”  Djaren gestured to the little girl, who was regarding them now unblinking, with the same sober face she had kept since they first saw her.  Jon found her gaze a little unsettling.

            “Hello,” he said. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

            “Likewise,” Ellea said, taking a sandwich.

            “Hear hear,” Tam said amiably, taking four of the small sandwiches, which all fit in one of his hands.  “These are funny little things.  Would you like some of the water with the leaf bits?” he asked Ellea.  She nodded and he helped lift and pour from the large pitcher.

            Djaren pushed the sandwiches toward Jon.  “Mother says your essay was best because you have a real observational eye and take the time to think things out, rather than ramming hypotheses about like runaway carts.  You’re mad bright too.”

            “Um, thanks.” Jon accepted a cup of mint water from Tam, and fished out a mint leaf with his spoon, suddenly shy.

“Djaren dear, thank you for continuing our introductions.” Lady Blackfeather floated over in folds and ruffles of nice fabric and snagged two glasses of water and a little plate of sandwiches. “Do entertain our new guests.  I am sorry, gentlemen, if I neglect you.  I must have another moment with Professor Sheridan.”

            Tam and Jon nodded, and Lady Blackfeather excused herself and the Professor to a separate table across the shop, where she made him drink a full glass of water before they began to speak again in low voices.  Jon wished he knew what they were talking about.

            Tam seemed to have the same impulse.  “Ten to one it’s about the theft,” he said.

© 2007 Ruth Lampi