Belladonna

connected to this dark piece of the world. He took a deep breath and hummed the note.
    A moment later, another note filled the air, creating a simple harmony.
    The Heart of the Bog nodded, then wrapped its long fingers around his wrist. Humming the two notes, they walked between the Sentinel Stones.
    Michael felt the lightest tingle of power. Then he was through the space between the Stones and ...
    The bog was gone. From what he could tell in the moonlight, there was open country in front of him and some lights in the distance that might be a village. The air felt different — and it didn't smell like home.
    He looked back and saw a handful of Merry Makers appear between the Stones, but there was no sign of the bog now. The Stones were just standing in the middle of a field.
    "Not much farther," the Heart of the Bog said, releasing Michael's wrist and heading toward the lights. "Humans will find us soon and take you to the Justice Maker."
    Nothing to do now but follow. The pots on the outside of his pack clacked and clattered to the rhythm of his walk. After a minute or so, two of the Merry Makers pulled out their reed whistles and began playing a tune that turned the rattle of pots into percussion.
    Well, Michael thought, if the lanterns and the musical clatter don't attract someone's attention, nothing will.
    They were halfway between the Sentinel Stones and the lights when the Heart of the Bog stepped onto a cart path that began in the middle of a field for no reason Michael could discern. But a few minutes after that, two men came riding up to block their path.
    "Halt!" the older man said. "State your business."
    "This human came to us without warning, appearing deep within our piece of the world," the Heart of the Bog said. "He seeks the Justice Maker."
    Not by choice, Michael thought. Who were these men? Law enforcers? Thugs? He couldn't tell by the look of them.

    "Do you want us to take him the rest of the way, or are you bringing him to the Den?" the man asked.
    The Heart of the Bog considered for a moment, then shook its head slowly. "Take him. If the Justice Maker is pleased with the Magician, we will trade him for another kind of meat."
    Michael stared at the Heart of the Bog. "What kind of meat?"
    The Merry Maker shrugged.
    "What kind?" Michael demanded. Lady's mercy, would they drag some poor fool to those Sentinel Stones and hand him over to the Merry Makers? Or ... different meat. Did the Merry Maker mean a woman ... or a child? "I'll go no further until I know what kind of meat." And if he didn't like the answer, he would do the most harmful ill-wishing he could think of before he was dragged away.
    The Heart of the Bog studied him. Then it smiled. "Cow. Sheep. Maybe goat."
    Michael's huffed out a breath as relief shivered through him.
    The Heart of the Bog stepped closer. "You are worthy of what you seek, Magician. Remember that." It tapped Michael's chest above his heart. "In here."
    Then the Merry Makers turned away and headed back toward the Sentinel Stones.
    Michael looked at the two men. "My name is Michael. Who would you be?"
    "Addison," the older man replied. "This here is Henley." He hesitated, then added, "From the sound of you, you come from a landscape that's a fair distance from here."
    "I come from a country called Elandar."
    "Country? Huh," Addison said, nodding as if Michael had just confirmed something. "Didn't take you for a city dweller, since most of them wouldn't know what to do with a pack like that, let alone be able to carry it. Come on, then. It's not too far a walk for someone who's used to using his feet."
    Michael walked in front of the horses, torn between wanting to lengthen his stride to walk off his annoyance and wanting to slow down to delay getting to their destination — whatever it was.
    Obviously they thought a wanderer was an uneducated man and couldn't tell the difference between being from the country and living in a country. So let them underestimate him and judge him by his clothes and the pack on his back. All the better for him to get away from this place and figure out how to find Caitlin.
    It didn't take long enough before they passed stables, paddocks, and a line of hitching rails as well as ... Yes, those wooden slats were bicycle racks. Looked like everyone left their conveyance here and went the rest of the way by foot.
    The street was cobblestone, which was common enough. The colored lights that lit up the street ...
    There was a feel of a harvest