Gatebound

Chapter VII

The distance between us and the town stretches along painfully, but when we're suddenly close I realize that I'm nowhere near ready to encounter other people. What were previously low tan blocks are certainly houses, topped off with some kind of thatching, and I find my feet dragging the more we move forward.

"Alex," I say, "What the hell are we going to do? Just waltz up to the first people we see and say 'Hi, I'd like to buy a magical translator rock?' For all we know, these people are cannibals or something."

He snorts. "It seems less than likely that our new friends would send us straight into a lair of cannibals. Ohn gave me a name - Corr Ramel - and that's exactly what I'm going to say. Remember, they should be able to understand us."

My stomach pinches in terror, but I don't want Alex to know how useless I am. "Okay," I say, and lift my chin. My mom would be proud of the shiny composure I smooth across my face, and I cling to that thought as I march onward. Pretend it's a breaking interview. Pretend you're on a war assignment in Africa. Pretend this is your one shot to make it big from Channel 9 News to a national syndicate. I guess that makes Alex my camera man, a thought that briefly amuses me.

Thoughts of directing him around dissipate as we follow the road's split towards the town. There's a low wall around the perimeter, but it's only a few feet high and doesn't look like it would keep anything out. We pass through the opening into the town proper, and a man in drab brown garb, reminiscent of a peasant in a Renaissance movie, hails us with a curious expression.

"Ta!" he says. "Mora let?"

Instead of cringing at the tones of yet another foreign language, I just smile politely and let Alex take the lead.

I can feel my companion take a deep breath, and then he speaks. "Hi," he says. "I'm Alex and this is Emmeline. I'm afraid we've just arrived and don't have a way to understand you yet. We met some other travelers who seemed to say that we could get some help here."

The man just stares at us, face entirely blank. I can't stay out of things any longer, so I jump in. "A translator rock?" I point to my neck. "Blue, sparkly? We really need one, please."

The villager has a puzzled expression on his face now, and I can see him focus carefully as a he slowly says a few more syllables. I still have no idea what he's saying, but he sounds just like-- oh. Just like I did speaking to Areela and Lilt. "Alex..." I interject.

He holds up a finger to stop me, which makes me seethe, but I let him speak. "Please," he says, "Our friend Ohn sent us here to see Corr Ramel."

"Alex," I hiss urgently, "He can't understand us."

"Oh." Alex actually sounds a little stupid for the first time, but I don't get the chance to gloat because the man facing us has brightened in recognition.

"Cor Amel!" It sounds almost French when he says the name. He spins then and takes off down to road, motioning for us to follow.

We follow him quickly down the main road, feet raising soft puffs of dust as we pass in and out of the shadow cast by each house, and turn into a lane that leads us to yet another beige building with a straw roof. Bundles of plants hang from the outside rafters, but otherwise it's identical to every other place we've passed. "Cor Amel," our guide says, and leaves us quickly.

I'm frozen, but Alex steps forward and knocks on the wooden door. After only a moment, the dark knotted planks swing away to reveal a dark interior, lit with a purple glow, and the pleasant face of a man in his early forties or so.

I note with interest the herby smell that follows the breeze of the opening door, vaguely reminiscent of rosemary and sandalwood, and barely catch the polite "Ta?" that comes from the man before us.