Free Into the Stone Land by Robert Stanek Page B

didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because the man reminded him of his father, whom he missed.
    â€œNot your father, Ray,” the man said. “Pay attention now. You were to arrive moons ago.”
    â€œOh,” Tall said with a sigh. The word slipped out before he could stop himself. The man thought he was Ray. He collected himself. “This is Wav’erh’n, Third Village?”
    â€œIt is,” the man said. “But you’re not Ray, are you? So who are you?”
    â€œI’d have thought you’d have known who I was.”
    The man leaned across the table, wagging an accusing finger. “I’d be careful. Might be you’re in something and might be—” The man stopped mid-sentence, pushed himself back from the table as if stung.
    â€œI’m Tall, son of Dent the woodcrafter. Third Village, Nahterh’n,” Tall said quickly, afraid of what would happen next.
    â€œHaven’t been in Nahterh’n in an age.” The man shifted around the table, twisted Tall around as if trying to get a closer look. His mouth fell open as he looked down.
    â€œThey’re gone again, aren’t they?” Tall said. He didn’t need to look down, he knew. His feet were gone, disappeared into the other place. He put his hands in his face and moaned just as Tag’Erh jumped up and pinned him to the table with his front paws. The man now knew the things the smoot seemed to not want anyone else to know. Tall would have cried, but the man started rifling through his pack, and this irritated him. “Take whatever you want. Not like I’ve a use for it if you’re going to kill me now.”
    â€œHa!” the man said. He turned Tall’s pack upside down and dumped its contents onto the floor. Tall squirmed in his seat. Tag’Erh held him firmer. The man asked, “Where is it?”
    Tall struggled to turn his head so he could look at the man. “Where’s what?”
    Angry, the man kicked the pack goods across the floor. “You’ve all the signs of the addiction. Where is it?”
    â€œSigns? Addiction?”
    The man turned on Tall. His eyes were wild, full of longing. “The seeds, the seeds. I smell them on you, but I don’t see them.”
    Tall did his best to look confused. “I need help.”
    â€œCan’t fool me. I know. They’re here. Somewhere.”
    â€œI need help,” Tall repeated.
    The man suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing. He collected himself. At the snap of his fingers, Tag’Erh backed down. “Forgive me. Should be able to, but can’t always. Sometimes still it takes me. Like it will take you.”
    Relief was so sweet a nervous laugh escaped Tall’s lips. He was about to speak a thank you. There was a flash in the man’s eyes. Then the man almost begged, “Check your pockets. Not a one. Sure?”
    Tall tried to flee. Tag’Erh moved to stop him, but he was already stopping himself. He had run from the smoot because he was afraid. He was afraid now but not in the same way or for the same reasons. “Help me.” It was a final plea. “I was told to seek this village, and you expected me. Are we allies or foes?”
    â€œWant me for an ally? Suppose you’ll be telling me that you’ll free me once you’ve the knowhow. Ha!” The man snorted. “Need to learn to pick and choose better. For all you know I’m in league with the wizard and it’s he who’s tethered me here.”
    Tall swallowed hard. “Are you in league with the wizard?”
    Thwack! The man slammed his open hand into the table. “Wouldn’t need to say it, if I was. Would I?”
    Tall blinked at the man, trying to decide.
    The man answered for him. “I wouldn’t. You’d be dead instead. Did your smoot teach you nothing?”
    Tall tried to speak.
    â€œNot meant for answering,” the man said. “Your problem is