Continuing on with the narrative. Don’t get attached to it, as I don’t think it lasts the full 30 days.
Looking back, I realized I could no longer see the break in the wall of greenery. It seemed like another world, another time.
But I didn’t know what world it was nor did I know anything about my mysterious guide.
“Where are we?”
“Eh? Where are we? Where do you suppose we are?”
“I have no idea. I don’t know who — or what — you are, how I came to be here, and where here is. Can you enlighten me?”
My companion made no answer, but seemed to be thinking. We walked on around a bend in the path and ahead I could see the path opening into a larger, greener space.
“I am called Therian. I am, as you saw, able to change my outward shape to suit my needs. I don’t mind saying I would rather be on four legs than two just now, but it is decided we should walk at your pace.”
To where and by whom, I thought, but remained silent.
“I am escorting you to a council. You have knowledge our elders would understand better.”
The currency of the world I knew was knowledge, and in many cases it had proved to be worth too much — a livelihood or even a life. And in this world were things similarly destructive?
“I do not claim to read your mind but I know of your people’s hunger for advantage and their willingness to take it any way they can. I know of your place in that, in helping men locate the things they seek.
“We are not of that feeling, at least none that I know. We — that is, the elders — would know more the value of what your people seek. We come and go in and out of your world and we see people bent over their work but it yields nothing they can eat or wear. Why do they do it?”
Why indeed? I could think of no time when that had not been the way nor of any place.
As for my role, my vocation was mining engineering. I understood the forces that had created the raw wealth people sought and how to find where these forces had exercised their power. It was not what I would have chosen for myself, but my Army training had proven more valuable than I would have guessed. More often than not, I found myself telling would-be mineral magnates that their claims were not what they hoped. I was lucky or skilled enough to able to make clear why, or I would have met my end in some canyon: a man who has sunk a test shaft through the rock with hand tools or minimal charges doesn’t take disappointment well. I was not the first consulting mineral engineer to set up in this town, but not all of them had been seen to leave.
“You know my name, Therian?”
“You are called Angstrom. I was given the name that I might know who to look for at the auction.”
“I purchased you, not the other way around.”
He laughed. “Yes, I realize that, but did you not wonder why the bidding ended when it did? There were many interested in a surplused Army draft horse but they dropped out, leaving the field to you.”
“I confess I had not considered it. I gave it no thought, but if I had, I would have assumed it was my persistence.”
A deep laugh, low and loud, erupted.
After a minute of lesser laughs and some catching of breath — I joined in, his laugh was so affecting and contagious — he continued.
“Persistence? Well, perhaps that is for the best. But the truth of it is, the others gave up as they looked at me and didn’t like what they saw. With you on one side of the auction tent, I was able to make some minor adjustments that only the other bidders could see and thereby reduce my appeal. A swayed back, too large a belly, even poorly kept hooves, eventually the rest of the bidders lost interest.
“As for your persistence, ignorance is more to the point,” he said with a smile.
“You are no horseman. You can ride, no question, and have been on a few mounts, but the buying and selling is another matter. You didn’t walk around and take a good look at what you were buying, as the others did. And ensuring that your eyes never left my face, the horse’s face, was part of that. I wager you have never seen a horse that looked you in the eye as if he knew you.”
He finished with a good-natured chuckle at my expense. In truth, I was surprised to learn how easy it had been to hold my attention and lure me me in.
“So you came through in human form, as you are now, located me by name, and then assumed the guise of a horse at the auction? Was there no less complicated way?”
“It worked, so it was no more or less complicated than it need be.”
At that, I made no reply. We walked further, the bright green space ahead growing slowly to reveal a clearing, possibly a junction with another path.
“Where is this place we are going?”
“I am not going there, but I will see that you reach your destination. You will meet with some of the learned, as we call them. They think of and call themselves the learners, as they ask more questions than they answer. I think I might like to witness the meeting, with your questions and theirs, but I have business elsewhere.”
“And this is why I am here? To spar with words against your old men?”
“You would do well to choose your questions more carefully.” Therian frowned as he spoke. “Your tone, your manner, betrays an impatience that will not serve you well. Bear in mind that no one knows you are here or even of the existence of here. And not everyone you meet will take what you say or how you say it with as little care as I have.”
It was not a threat but a clear warning, and I took it at face value. I had no idea if I would be permitted to go back through the green barrier, but if I were forced to stay here, I saw no point in making enemies.
“Here. We part ways at this crossroads. Your path lies that way. Stay on the road and you will be there within an hour or so. You will find many inviting places to rest and you are welcome to them. You will come to no harm, though you may find yourself lulled to sleep. And I have your provisions. You can take them now. I expect we will meet again before you return. Until then, take care with your words and mark those of others. You can learn much, if you choose.”
He unslung a bag I had not noticed before — on his frame it was the size of a purse — and pulled out my saddle bag and waterskin, still full and sweating with cold. I slung the bag over one shoulder and fastened the skin to my belt. As I straightened up, I noticed I was alone, though I could hear a rustling in the brush and could see the tops of smaller trees shaking. I just caught a glimpse of a shaggy brown form, then a furtively a bear raised its head and looked back at me. It stood still a moment, then as I turned to walk, the head disappeared and the crashing and rustling resumed, though more quietly.
The path was wider here, after the crossroads. The road we crossed was narrow, like the one we had followed, and I could see nothing either way. Each end faded into shadows, green and gray. I resumed my walking. The pack was heavy, as it was designed to be carried by a horse. I drank a draught from the waterskin, marveling at the coldness of the water. I wondered how it had stayed that way in a bag carried by a large man, but realized it was pointless to ponder. I stopped to pull out some bread and cheese as well. It had been some time since I last ate and I had no idea when I would next be offered anything.
A stream came out the woods and paralleled the path as I walked along, and I passed the first of the resting places Therian had mentioned. The deep shade, soft grass and the sound of the stream was a potent mixture and I could see why he had warned me of their power. On my own time, in my own world, I would have happily surrendered to it, but now was not the time.
Walking on, I looked around at all the greenery, the rich grasses, the leafy bushes hanging over the path, the tall trees of all kinds. The contrast between where I had been earlier this same day and where I found myself now could not be more startling. Where one place was stark and barren, the other was inviting and and fertile. It occurred to me how little I had walked and really looked at the landscape around El Dorado, as the town was known. Like most others, my excursions had been purposeful and direct, with little time to see beyond the task at hand.