For the first time, I walked until the sun came up and then went to sleep. I wanted to put enough distance between myself and the makeshift team that I wouldn't be able to hear when Nik started yelling. That was, if he even woke up today. And I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't. Well, at least he'd learned a lesson. His confidence might be shaken a little, but that could only be to the advantage of his companions.

I was so tired by the time the sun came up that I had no problem falling asleep even in daylight. It was afternoon when I woke up, judging by the heat and position of the sun. I wondered how much luck Torrey was having in leading his team back to the base. I almost wished that I were back with them, and then groaned at my own stupidity. I hadn't even seen until now that I'd just gotten out of a very sticky situation: either return to the base for a term of soldiery as Furball was so loath to do, or stay out here idly as Nik couldn't stand. Torrey had given me a third option: to continue on my original mission. I was unendingly grateful for it, for neither of the other two choices would have been pleasant.

Not that my present course of action was easy, either. What was the mission again? I'd done a lot in the month I'd spent as a missioneer, but none of it was actually what we'd been assigned to do. I smiled fondly in recollection, then wondered at my doing so. The times I remembered with the most pleasure were those I'd actually spent scared stiff. Strange how we look back on the past as being glorious, even though we were horrified while it was happening.

At least traveling was easier now that I'd found the river. I was sure of my direction and had a ready source of water. My diet may have contained a larger proportion of slimeberries than I'd have wished, but I could live with that. A much greater problem was the overwhelming boredom that came with straight, solitary marching day after day. Glad as I was that Torrey hadn't sent Nik with me, I could have used someone to talk to. And I was never a very social person, either. I'd always considered myself more of a loner, but until this point I'd never actually really been alone. It was a new feeling; there was no worry or fear involved, but no joy either as joy isn't really experienced unless it's shared. Being alone for a long period can rob a person of emotion. I was starting to feel separated from the world.

I was hoping to find my team before I got to the cliffs and the angle in the river. Not only was I uncertain about using the glider myself, but once on the other side I'd have to depend on the sun and stars again, and I'd already seen how unreliable that was. I was perversely disappointed when a whole week passed and I still hadn't reached the cliff. It rankled with my competitive side that I wasn't matching the grueling pace Tuck had set for us my first time through.

When I finally did reach the cliffs with no sign of my teammates or of anyone at all, I began to berate myself for even coming out here. Did I really expect to find this mine or cave on my own? I didn't even know what I was looking for. And it was possible, however unlikely (knowing that team), that they'd already located it and had a new mission. After all, I'd been gone over six months. They could be on the other side of the continent. Just because we'd stuck to this area while I'd been with the team didn't mean that they were here now.

Forcing positive thoughts on myself, I resolutely began searching trees for the glider, unsure in which one it was customarily hanging. I groaned at my own shortsightedness as I realized that a new complication had arisen: the glider was on the other side of the cliff. I hadn't even thought of that possibility. This meant my teammates were definitely on the other side, too, I realized. Well, at least the decision had been taken out of my hands; I couldn't cross the cliffs.

I sat down under one of the trees and tried to figure out what to do now. I could either try to find another way across the cliffs, or lose weeks by going around. After an hour of attempted resourceful thinking I realized that finding a new way across was not an option. And also that going around would not be such a lengthy detour in this situation as when traveling to the prison. This time I was only trying to reach Baron territory, which I could still do fairly efficiently. Of course, "Baron territory" covered a pretty broad expanse. I asked myself again if I really thought I was going to find this mine. I had a flash of my first day at the War-Pac with old Harley. We're going to break our Captain out of prison. I'm going to find one mine in all of Baron territory. Well, we'd succeeded before.

I'd wasted enough time already that day, so I got up and started walking the long way around the river. I could make things easier for myself, I mused, if I could somehow disguise myself as a Baron. That way I could enter a pac, or if I was really bold even a battlestation, and buy a map of Baron land, hopefully detailed enough to depict mines. And then hopefully I could follow it. I'd have to find something to trade as well as a way to disguise myself, though; I knew better than to offer Barons Colossan currency.

Satisfied with this plan, I worked variations into it as I followed the long curve of the river. The next afternoon I heard a human voice. Very faint, very far off, to be sure, but after spending so long hearing only the sounds of the river, wind, and forest I knew a human noise when I heard it. Could it be my team? No, I told myself, no one's that lucky. I'd have to be careful; this close to the border there was a good chance it would be Barons. I kept an eye on the river.

I heard voices again, closer this time. I couldn't make out what was being said, but I decided to find cover and lie low. I crawled under a thick bramble of slimeberry bushes (not the most comfortable of hiding places, but at least one from which I could see out decently without being seen myself) and drew my dagger, alert for trouble. The voices were very close now, and I could hear motion through the forest. Humans became visible soon, and I was relieved to see that they were wearing blue Col uniforms. I counted three people: two men and a short, blond-haired woman. They appeared to be searching for something.

"I think he's imagining things," one man's voice was clearly audible. "He can't even see this far. Let's go back; we're wasting time."

"Oh, he can see this far, don't doubt it for a second. The kid's got bionic vision or something," the other man responded.

"And too eager to prove it," the woman grumbled, but continued following.

I watched, fascinated, as their search took them past me. I wondered what they were after. All of a sudden, I heard a noise behind me, and before I could even turn around and glance out through the bushes I felt a blinding pressure smack against my head, but the pain was distant and only lasted a second, and the world flipped over 180 degrees, and everything went black.

* * *

I came to when I felt something wet dripping down my face.

"I think she's waking up!"

"Well, don't all crowd around. Everyone get back to work. This isn't a show."

"I just wanted to make sure she wasn't dead."

I opened my eyes and started to sit up. My head pounded horribly. A sea of unfamiliar faces were staring down at me.

"How are you feeling?" one man asked, supporting my back with his hand so I could sit up.

"Slight headache, maybe?" another asked.

I nodded. "What's going on?" I asked, reassured only by the Col uniforms and missioneer badges that they all wore.

"Are you a Col?" asked the first man who'd spoken. I wondered that he couldn't tell from my own badge and uniform. Then I realized that he was taking advantage of my dazed state to get honest information out of me. A sly trick. I just nodded again.

"Sorry about clubbing you over the head," the man continued contritely. "Midrot here can be a little high strung sometimes." He jostled the man to let him know he was teasing.

"I'm sorry," the older man called Midrot said gruffly. "Your uniform's so faded I didn't know which side you were on," he pointed out. "If you're really a Col you ought to get yourself a new one. That's dangerous."

"I know," I said dryly, and several of the missioneers surrounding me laughed.

"You walked into that one, Mid," one said.

Midrot looked disgruntled, but just said, "I am sorry."

"I'm Jossander," said the man with his hand on my back. "I'm Captain of this team. We're here on a secret project, so when we spotted you back there we had to check it out to make sure you weren't a Baron spy. Midrot found you, but, unfortunately, he got a little carried away in his suspicion."

"It pays to be suspicious," Midrot countered. "Uniform's not proof enough for me. Once I was on a team that got betrayed by a group of Barons in Col uniform."

"That must have been a tough one to get out of," a younger man wearing nothing but a pair of short pants said sympathetically. Midrot looked at him sharply. "Two of us never did."

"Well, since you didn't intend to hurt me," I said in the ensuing silence, "I accept your apology. My name's Brytani Sarliss, by the way."

"Is your team around here, Brytani?" Jossander asked.

"You can just call me 'Bryt.' I don't think they're around here. I kind of got separated from them. I'm lost."

"How'd that happen?" Jossander wasn't going to let me off with just that answer.

"I was instructed to train in empathy," I explained, choosing my words carefully. "After I finished and left the center, I was supposed to meet up with my teammates, only I can't find them."

"How long have you been looking?"

"Over a week now." I decided to be honest in case any of them knew how far away the nearest Pathic Training center was.

"Seems you could have organized yourselves better," Jossander commented, but he waved his hand dismissively. I wondered how much of my story he believed.

Midrot, for sure, was still skeptical, but I pretended unconcern. I started to get up, glad to see they'd brought my pack here, too. I wondered how far we were from where I'd been knocked out. It was late afternoon or early evening, to judge by the position of the sun.

"I thought I said everyone back to work," Jossander said, looking around as if just noticing that the rest of them were there. The three men quickly scattered, and I noticed for the first time the strange equipment and activity all around me. I had no time to wonder though, for Jossander pulled me away from the bustle and into the woods.

"Don't let Midrot worry you," he said when we'd stopped. "He's just overly suspicious by nature, that's all."

"But you still don't trust me," I said bluntly, reading him.

"Bryt, how important is the mission you're on?" he asked as if I hadn't spoken.

"I think it's pretty important," I said honestly. Discovering the formula for explosive powder sounded pretty big.

Jossander sighed. "Is it urgent, too?"

"No," I answered. We'd certainly gone long enough without beginning it before. No lives hung in the balance of my completing this mission on a schedule. Not yet anyway.

"Good. What I'm asking you is � and please don't take this the wrong way � would you stay with us for a few days? This project has the potential to be so big...and secrecy is key. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I nodded, half disappointed that they didn't trust me, half acutely interested in the project. "I'll stay with you," I assured him. "It sounds exciting. What's the project?"

"Come on," he smiled, gesturing me back toward the working mission team. "I'll show you."

Jossander decided to introduce me to everybody, since I might honestly be with them for quite a while. "You've already met Midrot," he grinned. "This is Rolan." He gestured to one of the other men who'd been hovering over me when I woke up. Rolan was a young man, very strongly built and with scraggly blond hair that reached past his shoulders. He appeared to be sharpening a log to a point, though I couldn't guess the reason. "Hi, Bryt," he said pleasantly, keeping on task.

"These two are Chalia and Bo," Jossander pointed out two other people working diligently. "They're married. Bo, why don't you explain our project to our young friend Bryt here, since you engineered it?" he said, walking up to the large, burly man with warm, friendly brown eyes and beautiful brown curls brushing his shoulders. He was turning a long metal object in his hands, and seemed to be contemplating it deeply.

"What? Oh, hello," he said, looking up. "Oh, you're the one they hit on the head back there? Pleased to meet you. I'm Bo."

"So, you don't want to explain your brilliant ship trap?" Jossander asked, amused.

"Oh, I should let Chalia explain that. After all, it was mostly her idea," he said modestly, and abruptly turned back to his fascinating metal gadget.

"We'd better humor him," Jossander told me. " We'll never get an explanation out of him now, not in this mood."

So he led me across the site to the woman with the short, blond hair whom I remembered from earlier. I assumed this was Bo's wife, Chalia.

"You, know, Bo should be the one explaining this," Chalia responded when given the same request as her husband. "Since he deserves most of the credit. But I'll explain it to you. We're basically digging two pits in the ground on either side of the river, and inserting two pointed logs into them, under the water. Then when a ship comes through, we push the logs through it. Quite simple in principle, really. Bo's fashioned these devices," she held up the odd metal contraption in front of her, "which we'll attach to the pointed ends of the logs. You see, the blade enters, then fans outward," she demonstrated, "into further blades so that it rips a huge hole when we pull it out! We're still working on a few minor details, but it's really a most ingenious device. Don't you agree?"

"Remarkable," I responded sincerely, still not fully understanding but awed nonetheless.

"Chalia, Bo, Midrot, and Rolan are our crafters," Jossander explained. "See that kid on the other side?" He pointed across the river, and I recognized the man wearing only shorts who'd been with me before. "That's Jarel. He's our designated 'swimmer.' He's invaluable for this mission. And our last member is Ashlar. He's basically our mutt � he does whatever odd tasks need doing. Right now he's up the tree." He pointed. "He's a good lookout, but really we keep him up there so we don't have to listen to him."

As he turned to lead me away, a handful of nuts suddenly flew down from the top of the tree, and a voice said, "I resent that!"