By the time we'd made it back to the War-Pac I'd given up every last shred of dignity and begged, made promises, tried any idea that entered my mind to get myself out of leaving. I think Shay and Tuck got pretty disgusted with me. I was certainly disgusted with myself. The one bright spot was that I hadn't resorted to using influence. Even sunken this low I didn't want to employ such a devious trick. So, morally against using the one plan that may have worked when all my efforts were futile, I was forced to surrender. I was going back to Training.

That established, I sulkily followed Tuck into one of the War-Pac's small wooden buildings. "General Supplies," read the sign in the square of grass in front of the steps. As opposed, I guessed, to "War Supplies," the title given to the shop a little further on into which Shay had gone for a standard Colossan uniform and weapons. We were hoping to find a map in the general store, one showing a route to the nearest Pathic Training facility.

Nailed to every free inch of the wall inside the store were shelves. From the floor to the ceiling, shelves loaded with every useful item for pac life imaginable. It looked almost like a miniature supply warehouse, except that it had windows and a skylight so it wasn't dark. In addition to the shelves, several large tables were set up around the room, and these were also piled high. One table at the back of the store was half empty. A young boy sat at it, reading a small, leather-bound book and looking bored. He turned around when we entered, and I noticed his eyes widen slightly at the sight of missioneers, though he seemed determined not to show it.

"Are you soldiers looking for something?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah." Tuck nodded to him. "We need a map. You have maps here?" I noticed he didn't take offense at being called simply a soldier. It had obviously not been a deliberate insult � the boy just didn't recognize a missioneer's badge. I guess it's not the kind of thing children in pacs are taught to notice.

"I think we do." The boy nodded, getting up and pushing as stool over to a corner of the room. He climbed up and began pulling down rolls of paper; some pure, smooth and white, and some light tan or grayish � made of the same poor material as the leaves I'd always used. He'd pulled down about twelve maps when he said, "Looks like that's all," and hopped down. He picked up the few rolls that had fallen on the floor, and then sidled quickly across the room. "I'll just go get my father now. He runs the store. He'll give you a map for a fair price, I promise." Then he opened door on the opposite side of the building that I hadn't even noticed, and ran outside.

Tuck walked up to the pile and pulled the string binding one of the maps, one on white paper. He unrolled it. I held two corners so we could see it. The good paper was smooth and firm � amazing stuff. This was the first time I'd touched real paper, and I was afraid to pull it too tightly for fear I'd tear it. I almost laughed at myself � this paper was so strong it wouldn't break or crumble no matter how much I stretched it. I savored the moment. Unfortunately, the map was of planet Skye. Blue and gray, brilliant against the pure white background, marked Col and Baron territories. The scale was too large to draw in actual buildings, but I did see what I thought was the river we'd followed from Col to Baron land, and now back.

Beautiful as the map was, we rolled it up and retied it. It was of no use to us.

Next Tuck selected a map made of the poor, crumbly leaf material. We unrolled it, and I didn't immediately recognize what it depicted. Then I read the title along one side, and involuntarily snorted. "The Third Continent," it read. There were tales that there was a third continent on Skye, far across the ocean from the Large and Small Continents on which the war takes place. Different legends state that people live there, monsters, evil puffans, or that it is totally barren. I don't know whether the Third Continent really exists or not, but one thing is for sure� no one has ever been there. No one could make a map of it.

Tuck's reaction was much the same as mine. Apparently he didn't believe in the Third Continent, either. We quickly put that map away.

I was retying the string that held this map when a man entered, followed by the boy who'd been there before. The boy went back to his chair and picked up the book again as the man walked over to us. He was heavyset and strong-looking, with a black beard and mustache.

"I hear you soldiers need a map," the man said brusquely, without introducing himself. "I don't have much, but maybe you can find what you need. All I can say is, you'd better pay. My prices are fair. And I'll accept a trade if you don't have money. You find one you want yet?" He glanced back at his son, who quickly put the book back down in a pile of goods on the table.

"No," Tuck answered, "We've only looked at two. We don't want to buy a map, though. We want �"

The man was right in front of us in two steps. "I told you � you're not taking any of my goods for free. You want freebies, go to the war store, but I'm sick of soldiers coming in here and demanding special treatment! I don't care what weapons you wave at me; you want a map, you are going to pay for it!"

"Sir, please calm down," I said pacifically , trying to influence him. I turned to Tuck. "Look, I have some money saved from Training..."

Tuck looked at me disdainfully, then turned back to the storekeeper. "I was going to say," he pointedly went on, "that we don't want to take one of your maps. We just want to look at them."

"Look at them?" the man was clearly puzzled.

"Yeah. So we can see where to go. Which direction we should walk in. To get where we're going. Do you know how it works?"

I gently kicked Tuck in the ankle. There was no need to antagonize this man. It would be much easier to handle the situation diplomatically...

"And you want to look at all my maps and not pay for anything. Get what you need for free," the man accused.

"We're not taking your map!" Tuck argued. "You can sell it to someone else. We're not going to hurt it by looking at it."

"Do you really think you can get where you're going without it?" the storekeeper sneered. "Arrogant bunch, you soldiers are, aren't you? Do you have a photographic memory or something?"

"Yeah, I do, okay?" Tuck answered angrily. "Can we see a map, or not?"

The man just laughed. The boy watched, smiling secretively at the excitement. "Very over-arrogant bunch. You soldiers all think you're so smart, but you can't even understand when you're being told 'NO'. How about this � get out of my store before I call help in and they take you out."

"You know we can handle anyone in this pac," Tuck told him. I groaned silently � it was the wrong thing to say.

"That's what all soldiers say. You think it means you can take my goods by force, without paying. Get out now, and don't touch anything along the way."

I pulled Tuck's elbow, not so gently this time. He finally got the message.

"All right. We're going. It's okay," Tuck said as we moved toward the door we'd come in. "No need to call someone in to protect you, you �"

I won't repeat what Tuck called him, but the little boy laughed and his father tuned to yell at him. We left the store and almost walked right into Shay, dressed in a clean blue Col uniform and carrying a weapon band.

"I heard shouting," he told us. "I was almost ready to come in. Can't I leave you two alone for five minutes? How in the world did you manage to start trouble at the general store?"

"Long story." Tuck grinned. "But we'll be back tonight to fix it."

I moaned under my breath. But secretly, I was glad for the promise of action at least once more before I was committed to Training again.

* * *

Shay agreed with me that Tuck should have been more diplomatic, but also agreed with Tuck that it probably wouldn't have done much good anyway. So, after visiting with old Harley (whose physical condition was visibly declining but was still as jovial as ever) until the sun began to lower, we watched (okay, spied on) the storekeeper until he left. His hut was far enough away from the store that we would be able to break in without his seeing us. He did lock both doors and windows, though. I stayed around watching the house he'd entered while Shay and Tuck went to old Harley's hut, built a fire in the hearth, and took a torch from it. The man never left the house. I did, however, notice the little boy surreptitiously leave the hut, run off somewhere, then ten minutes later sneak back in. That boy would probably make a good missioneer, I thought, if he weren't growing up in this corrupt place. When my teammate returned with the torch, we went back to the store with the sign reading "General Supplies" in front.

We used the door in the back, as the torch would be more noticeable in the front of the building. I'd been the one who'd suggested we use the pins I'd brought in my pack form Mission Training to open the lock.

"A pin is a very useful item," Tuck had agreed. "Used to hold things together, break into locked buildings, or, in a real pinch, fend off your enemies."

"What?" I teased him. "You mean you don't want to burn the place down?"

"Of course not. We'd burn the maps."

So I knelt down and worked the pin inside the lock while Tuck held the torch. After about thirty seconds I felt the locking mechanism turn easily. I pulled the lock down and it opened. Then, as quietly as possible, I opened the door, pleased with myself.

Tuck went in first with the light. I followed.

"Careful with the torch," Shay advised. "If it's as cluttered as you say in here it'll be pretty easy to make a wrong move and start a fire."

Tuck nodded and moved carefully toward the corner from which we'd seen the boy remove the maps. They were still there, up on the shelves in the same place they'd been that afternoon.

"See them up there?" Tuck pointed at the maps. "Why don't you get them down, you know, since I'm holding the torch and everything."

Shay smiled and shook his head as he reached up and began pulling the rolled maps down. "And everything", I thought with a smile, knowing that Tuck was not tall enough to have reached the maps without the stool. I picked up the first fine-paper map that Shay took down and reached for the loops to untie the string.

"Not that one," Tuck said. "We already saw that one, remember?"

I just stared at him for a minute. I knew his mind was attune to catching fine details, but the rolls of good paper looked exactly alike! There weren't even any telltale imperfections or wrinkles to remember.

"The string," Tuck explained, seeing my incredulous expression. "That's the only one tied with a red string."

I almost laughed. I'd been looking so strenuously for tiny details that I'd missed the obvious. Yes, Shay had taken all the maps down, and this was the only one printed on good paper that was tied with a red string. So I picked up a different roll, tied with a tan string.

On our fourth try we found a map of the general area of the War-Pac at a scale we could use. I was half disappointed to see a Pathic center in the bottom corner. Tuck studied the map for a while, while Shay and I opened the rest of the maps. Two more showed the same facility, so Tuck examined them all to plot his most accurate estimate of our course. Then we rerolled the maps, replaced them, and left, locking the door on the way out. Tuck wanted to take at least one map anyway, just to spite the store owner, but Shay tolerantly refused. "Fine," Tuck gave in, "but no knocking me out tonight, then."

We slept in Harley's hut again that night. It was the one place in the pac where I enjoyed being. I was glad that we'd gotten to have one more little mini-adventure before I went to train to be an empath. It hadn't really been much, though. I had actually been hoping it would be more difficult. I wanted the chance to do something big, something right�You're dreaming, Bryt, I told myself. I would just go train. That was the best thing I could do for my cause right now. And maybe, I thought as I drifted off, it would help me to do something really great later.