Chapter 14: Wildlings

After a restful night at the Snail’s Gift, Tonic, Atcher, and Prism are excited to be on their way. Finding Graemes and their journey’s end seem very close, and they are full of fizzy energy. The Wind Rabbits remain asleep in their bag, satchel, and pouch, as brownie, sprite, and gnome eat and break their fast.

Notyet is busy cooking, cleaning, and generally tending to guests and the inn while the trio enjoy a hot cereal of oats, buckwheat, and hemp seeds, with maple cream, chopped pecans, and fresh huckleberries on top. As the friends are finishing their meal, Notyet’s work slows down. The snail comes over to chat with the friends, “You seem to have learned a good bit about the World’s Between from your friend Graemes, I will try to help fill in any gaps in your knowledge before you go. Do you have questions?”

“Yes,” Atcher is ready to take notes, “can anybeing travel the Worlds Between? I understand the Lintels and Marginalia keep accidental crossing to a minimum, but are there people who cannot go? Could a group like us be separated, if not everyone is a Wildling? Are there limits to how much we travel?”

Notyet nods, “You have many good questions. As you’ve said, a Wildling is one who can travel the World’s Between. The word for someone who cannot sense or travel the World’s Between is “Glazed.” The Glazed cannot sense a Lintel, they do not get the “wild” feeling a Wildling has. When a Lintel is near, Wildlings describe an experience of the world shifting, of feeling newness, or magic, or of the world seeming brighter or more urgent. So no, not everyone travels the World’s Between.” Notyet looks at the group and continues, “As for a group traveling together, it may be possible for a Glazed to travel the World’s Between with the help of a Wildling, but I do not know. I’m not sure it’s ever been tested scientifically. Most beings regard the World’s Between as made-up, magic, fantasy, mere legend; those few who do travel are usually too busy traveling and having adventures to test the science of it.” Here the snail pauses to clear away the dirty dishes.

With a nose-wrinkle Atcher looks at Prism and Tonic, “We were doing so much, I never really considered… are we really going into the World of Myth? Where tricksy humans trap us and steal our science and skills? Where we get turned to stone? It hardly seems like something real…”

Prism’s changeable moods flow between surprise, disbelief, and anger, settling near confusion. “I never really thought… Graemes does travel, Graemes goes somewhere. And the journal mentions the World’s Between. And Nightshade said the World of Myth is real, and Vellum agreed; Notyet too. I mean, how would it even be some elaborate prank?”

Tonic pats the pocket with the plush moth in it, “I’m sure the World of Myth is real, but… well, just like any story, maybe bits of it are made up? Maybe it’s really just another part of the real world? I just don’t think magic can really be real...”

Notyet returns from cleaning and continues, “Your last question is about limits on travel; again, not much rigorous scientific testing has been done about traveling the World’s Between. However, I do get a fair amount of travelers, and they all have stories. While I’ve never heard of strict limits, travelers do report changes. Some changes might cause you to choose to limit your travels across the World’s Between. Do you know what happens when you finish crossing the Lintel? Rules between worlds don’t always match. What works on one side may be different on the other. The reward of growth requires risk; some beings who travel the World’s Between change but little, some change a lot. I have heard of some for whom time passes differently between worlds, and some whose body shape changes, some find they speak differently, some lose abilities or knowledge. Travel together, stay kind and adaptable, and you should fare pretty well.” The snail offers a cloth package to the trio, “Here, it’s your first trip. Take some apples and bread. The World of Myth is strange, and it’s always helpful to have at least one meal on you. Now follow me.” Before any of the friends can say thanks, Notyet opens a door down the hall and points outside with a rainbow umbrella. “The smooth grey path there. That’s a paved road. Seamint I think it’s called. It will take you the rest of the way to the World of Myth.”

Giving profuse thanks to Notyet, gnome, brownie, and sprite head down the paved path of seamint. “This path has nothing to do with the sea.” Prism notes. “Nor has it anything to do with mint!” Tonic agrees with a sneeze. Atcher takes a small piece of the smooth grey path to examine more closely, when Prism lets out a gasp. Atcher wants to check on the sprite, but feels it is important to study this bit of stone from the path first. Looking at the grain and texture, Atcher is certain they could understand the place they were going better, if the stone would just make sense.

Tonic rushes over to help Prism, who has fallen to the ground. “Are you okay? What happened?!”

Prism looks grumpy and bewildered. “My legs just stopped working! I didn’t feel a sting, or a rock turn under me or anything! I just can’t seem to get up.”

Tonic nods and tries to comfort Prism, “Let me see what I can find to help out. There might be some branches for crutches or a plant to help with healing. Do you see any Comfrey?”

Looking around for some way to help, Tonic sees a metallic-looking cylinder just ahead on the path. The top and bottom are silver, but the main portion is red, with white writing. Tonic picks it up with curiosity; it fits easily in a hand and is a perfect cylinder, with top and bottom closed, but it feels empty. Deciding to take the metal thing to Atcher, Tonic looks further up, and sees the circle of house bones.