Free Flux by Kim Fielding Page A

well, shaking out the blankets and carefully folding them before tucking them away.
    They discussed the possibility of Ennek catching some fish and decided against it. The fruit was enough for now and neither really wanted to wait for fish to cook. Besides, the bird was back, croaking impatiently at them. So they walked back to the narrow road and continued westward, up over the crest of the hill and down into a much broader valley, where the sun shone brightly enough to make Miner remove his sweater, and for Ennek to fuss a bit over whether Miner was going to get sunburned again.
    They came to a small settlement around mid-day. This one seemed poorer and meaner than Luli’s village, the residents thinner and dirtier. They had fields, too, but the crops grew sparsely and choking dust kicked up with every footstep. The people stopped their work and stared at the strangers as they passed, their gazes cold and distrustful. Miner and Ennek hurried through as quickly as possible and were relieved when nobody stopped them.
    Not long after the village had disappeared from sight, they saw a cloud of dust approaching from the west. Soon afterward they could hear wheels rattling and then they met up with a decrepit wagon being pulled by an ox and driven by a tall man and a small boy. The back of the wagon was filled with crates of large, lumpy fruits and pale, tuberous vegetables.
    “It’s too bad we’ve nothing to trade,” Ennek said to Miner as the two pairs regarded each other. “Although perhaps I could perform some small task for them—something with my powers.”
    “No!” Miner said, alarmed. “We don’t need their food that badly.”
    Ennek sighed. “You’re right.” He uttered a few words to the man—a polite greeting, Miner thought—and they continued their separate ways.
    A few minutes later, as the path skirted a large stone outcropping, Ennek sighed again. “It’s tempting to use magic. It calls to me sometimes. Like…like it wants to be used. Only I’m not certain it’s not using me.”
    Miner was slightly aghast. “Is the magic… sentient ?”
    Ennek scratched his head, probably tangling his curls even further. “I don’t know. I think…not really. It’s a force, though. It wants, the way a fire wants to consume things, or water wants to flow.”
    That explanation did little to soothe Miner’s unease. But not too much later they found a stand of trees that bore small, tart apples. It must have been an orchard once—the burnt remains of a house were still visible nearby—but whoever had lived here was long gone. The apples were too hard and sour to eat raw, but they gathered quite a few and stuffed them in their bags with the intention of cooking them later. A few miles farther down the road they found nut trees that swarmed with noisy, crow-like birds. Miner shooed them away while Ennek gathered the nuts. The Bhujanga watched that with particular interest, and then Ennek scolded Miner when Miner cracked a few of the nuts and set the meat out for their guide. But Miner figured it wasn’t the bird’s fault the air wizard was using it, and it might be hungry as well.
    As they walked, they came to three or four crossroads, but each time the bird would choose a particular path and stand there, calling at them until they followed.
    They were fortunate that there were frequent sources of fresh water in this land: little streams mostly, but twice deeper rivers that had to be forded with care, and once a small, picturesque lake. So even though the sun was quite warm, they could refresh themselves often and fill their empty bellies with liquid as well.
    As the sky darkened, Ennek found them another secluded spot to sleep, this one beside a pool formed by a waterfall. They could see fish darting about in the clear water; Miner’s stomach grumbled so loudly that Ennek heard it and laughed. “Can you manage to start a fire? I’ll catch us a fish while you do.”
    “We could just eat the apples and