Over the next couple of days they moved ever slower and more cautiously, because they were beginning to approach the border between Malgania and the territory of the southern folk. The map showed a double line of border forts, Malganian fortresses paired off with southern fastnesses, staring at each other across a narrow strip of no man's land, and the Tharians didn't doubt that the entire length of the border was guarded and patrolled by soldiers of both countries.

     "The Shonnlans thought we were southern spies," said Matthew as they pondered the matter one evening, camped in the base of a skyscraper taller than any other they'd seen so far, tapering towards its summit and showing no sign of the slow decay afflicting its neighbours. "They'll be expecting us to come this way, back to our southern masters. They'll be on guard, waiting for us."

     The others nodded gloomily. "So how do we get across?" asked Jop Sonno.

     "You made yourself invisible when you stole our weapons back," said Drenn to Thomas. "Can you make us all invisible?"

     "Sorry, no," said the wizard, shrugging apologetically. "Just me. I could create a diversion, though, perhaps. Create chaos and confusion somewhere else to give you the chance to slip across."

     "We'd be giving away the fact that we were in the area," pointed out Matthew. "They'd comb the area looking for us."

     "But we'd be on the other side of the border by then," replied Thomas. "Only the Malganians are looking for us. Not the southern people. They'd have no reason to look for us."

     "Unless they think we're Malganian spies, scouting out southern territory," said the Flight Leader. "We might have both countries looking for us, each thinking we're spies for the other."

     "Is there no way we can teleport across?" asked Drenn hopefully, but the wizard could only shake his head. "Yeah, I know," said the priest. "Teleporting blind."

     "I wonder if Saturn's group's having these problems," muttered Roj Villa, staring down at the stone floor dejectedly.

     "I hope so," replied Jop Sonno. "It would mean they're still alive."

     Thomas hadn't thought of his one time mentor for some time now, and as he thought of the older wizard he realised that a part of him had almost given up hope of finding him alive. That was the reason they were going to the spaceport, of course, but he knew now that he at least was doing so with very little real hope of actually finding the others there, and he doubted that any of the others still held out much hope either. They were only going there because it was somewhere to go. If it meant crossing the border, though, was it simply too dangerous to be worth the risk?

     Maybe there were places on this side of the border they could head for. Places Saturn might also be aiming for. He'd searched the maps over and over, though, without finding anything more promising than the spaceport, and as he thought about it now he realised that if they turned aside from the border, if they turned back, they would effectively be giving up their search for the others, and giving up all hope of going home as well. Turning back would mean finding somewhere within the Kingdom of Malgania to live out the rest of their lives. Posing as citizens of that country and having to live with the ever present threat of discovery. It would mean never seeing Lirenna or Derrin again.

     No, I won't give up on them! he thought angrily. I won't give up on my wife and child! He felt himself filling with resolve and determination. "We will find a way," he said. "We've still got a couple of days to think of something before we get there, and we will think of something! I, for one, intend to go home, no matter what it takes."

     "Me too," agreed Matthew. "I want to see my wife again. Heather, and the kids. It's been nearly two years now. We'll find a way."

     The others nodded their agreement, and the five of them felt a new sense of purpose and unity binding them together. No matter how this went, they all knew, no matter whether they found their way home or not, a bond was forming between them that would last long after their present adventures were over. Thomas was struck by how much it reminded him of the old days. The ClaimJumpers and their various quests in which they'd faced dangers much greater than anything they were facing now. This'll be a piece of cake in comparison, he thought, and that thought cheered him up for the rest of the evening.

☆☆☆

     "Are you sure this is the only way?" asked Matthew two days later. "It just seems awfully risky. I mean, are we absolutely certain we've exhausted every alternative?"

     It was close to midnight, and they were hiding behind a pile of overgrown rubble, peering through the dense green leaves at the fortress that had been built in the base of a skyscraper a hundred yards ahead of them. The silvery ring reflected more light down on the ancient city than a hundred full moons so that it was almost as bright as an overcast day, and they could see that all the entrances in the lower two floors of the fortress had been sealed up with solid stone. The only entrance left was a stone staircase leading up to an enlarged window fifteen feet above the ground.

     The upper storeys had been torn down to create a flat, level roof fifty feet up on which several large catapults stood, and every window held grim faced archers, looking warily out at their counterparts in another fortress a couple of hundred yards further ahead. The land between the two fortresses, and all along the border, had been burned to clear the vegetation so that no-one could cross without being seen by the inhabitants of both fortresses. Patrols were frequent, and spaced at irregular intervals. There was no way of knowing how long it would be until the next one passed by.

     "We discussed the alternatives," replied Drenn. "You agreed with us that this was the only way. Are you having second thoughts?"

     Matthew shook his head. "I just wondered whether someone had thought of anything better, that's all. I don't like the risks."

     "None of us like the risks," said the priest, "but if we're serious about reaching the spaceport, risks cannot be avoided. We have to cross the stretch of open land between those fortresses, and we all agreed that this was the best way to do it. You agreed yourself."

     Matthew nodded unhappily. "I just don't like the idea of being completely out in the open, right where they can see us. If just one of them looks in our direction and sees us..."

     "That's why we spent all afternoon looking for the best spot," replied the priest impatiently. "The ground has sagged here, formed a long, shallow depression that will give us some measure of cover, and it's three hundred yards from the fortress. And even if we are seen..." He turned to Thomas. "Are you still happy with your part in this?"

     "Like you say, it's the only way," the wizard replied. "So long as you remember that most of my spells have a fairly short range. If we're spotted by a wandering patrolman I can take care of him, but if we're seen from the fortress there's nothing I can do about it."

     "That's what I'm afraid of," admitted Matthew. He sighed heavily. "You're right, though. It's the only way. We have to try it. If only we had some cloud, though. Just our luck to have a clear night. Fine for young lovers out on a moonlight tryst, but bloody awful for us."

     "It may work in our favour," said Drenn, however. "Both sides know that spies would never try to cross on a night like this. They'll be relaxed and complacent, not concentrating on their duties, and they'll have fewer men out on foot." He scanned the expanse of bare ground with his steely grey eyes. "So far I've seen only two groups of three men, and they were talking amongst themselves, not attending to their duty. If they were my men, I would reprimand them severely."

     "If we've got to do it, could we get on and do it?" asked Roj Villa, a nervous tremor in his voice. "The sooner we're safely on the other side, the happier I'll be."

     "You speak for all of us," said the priest grimly. "Very well. If we're all ready, let's go."

     They moved to the very edge of the building they were sheltering by and Drenn and Matthew searched one more time for any foot patrols in the area. They saw nothing, but that did nothing to reassure the Flight Leader. The night was distressingly bright and clear, and several men were clearly visible on the walls of the Malganian fortress. The night was so still that they could actually hear their voices as they chatted with each other to pass the time.

     With their night adapted eyes the ring was painfully bright above them. Almost too bright to look at directly except for a wide swath of darkness where the planet's shadow fell across it. It was almost as if the malignant intelligence that had attacked the Jules Verne and destroyed the Bescot was still at work, trying to give the Beltharans away to the Malganians.

     "All clear," said Drenn. "Cast your spell, Tom."

     Thomas nodded and spoke the words of his invisibility spell. A moment later he faded from view, his position only apparent to the others by the footprints he was leaving in the dust. "Ready," he said. "Let's go before it lapses."

     The four soldiers dropped to their bellies and started wriggling across the open ground on their elbows while Thomas walked beside them, using his full height to scan the land around for any sign of foot patrols. The depression they were in was much shallower than they'd thought it was, and Matthew panted in near terror to see that the fortress was just as visible to him down here as it had been from his standing position, meaning that he was just as visible to them.

     "Slow down!" hissed Drenn urgently. "Just take it slow and easy. The faster you move, the more likely they'll see you."

     "But the slower we move, the longer we're out here!" hissed back Matthew.

     "Remember your training," warned the priest. "Fear is your enemy. Have faith and fear not."

     "Still no foot patrols," said Thomas reassuringly. "We're doing fine."

     "How far have we come?" asked Jop Sonno.

     "No more talking," warned the priest. "Voices carry far on nights like this."

     They fell silent, and the only sound was the dusty shuffling of the four soldiers as they wriggled painfully onwards across the hard, flat ground.

     The open space they were crossing had once been a wide avenue, by the look of it. One of the city's most important roads, with two carriageways separated by a stretch of tree-lined parkland. The trees, flower beds and park benches on which the citizens had sat to enjoy one of the few remaining areas of greenery on the continent had long since vanished, buried under thousands of years of deposited soil, so that there was no remaining trace of the original geography. The only remaining legacy of the ancient avenue was the distance between buildings on either side, which was now used as the natural boundary between two newly born kingdoms, much as a river would have been.

     Thomas wished it had been a river. At least then they'd have been under the water, with only a few ripples to give them away. They'd passed several real rivers over the past few days, some of which might have been part of the original landscape, but others had obviously appeared later, following ancient streets and thoroughfares. Eroding channels in the layers of soil that had built up around them. They'd had to swim across some of those rivers, a pleasant relief from the heat of the day.

     Beside him he heard Matthew grumbling under his breath as his elbows and shoulders began to ache from the effort. He was making too much noise, the wizard thought anxiously. They all were, except the priest who was slithering as silently as a snake. He wanted to hiss at them to be more careful, but he was afraid that his own voice might be heard.
Then he paused in mid step as a movement near the southern fortress caught his attention. A patrol! Two soldiers, standing beside a skyscraper on the opposite side of the border were glancing idly out across no man's land, looking this way and that. "Keep still!" he hissed, and the four Beltharans froze in place, flattening themselves against the ground. "Southerners," the wizard said in a low voice. "They're looking this way."

     "Have they seen us?" asked Drenn.

     "I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. I'm going to get closer. If they do see you, I can take them out with a sleep spell. Oh damn!"

     "What is it?" demanded the priest.

     "Malganians. Four of them, just emerged from the fortress. They've seen the southerners, and the southerners have just noticed them. They're..." He stared in astonishment. "They're waving at each other! Like they're old friends!"

     "They probably are," agreed Drenn. "They probably see more of each other than they do their superiors. The priesthood warns of this, of affections developing between yourself and your enemies in the absence of actual warfare. It makes it hard to kill them when the fighting starts. Good soldiers can begin to question their loyalties."

     The priest's tone annoyed Thomas. "Is affection and understanding of your neighbours a bad thing?" he asked. "If people understood each other better, maybe there'd be fewer wars."

     "The best way to achieve security is to be prepared to kill to defend your territory," the priest replied. "There will be fewer wars if your enemies know that you're willing and able to slaughter them if the need arises. Mutual affection erodes this and makes war more likely."

     "I can't believe that!" stated Thomas flatly.

     "Nevertheless it is the teaching of Samnos. Read the Samnia. The Folly of Mercy, verses twelve to twenty five."

     "I'll take your word for it." Thomas fell silent in case their conversation, quiet though it was, carried to the Malganians. They were calling across to the southerners now, friendly greetings by the sound of it, and then two of the Malganians began walking out across no man's land, while the southerners set out to meet them half way.

     "I don't believe this!" muttered Thomas in horror. The two groups would meet less than fifty yards from where the Beltharans were cowering nervously.

     "Keep absolutely silent," warned Drenn.

     All five Tharians held their breaths in terror as the Malganian soldiers passed them by. They must have been clearly visible in the bright, silvery light of the ring! If the Malganians had looked off to their right they would surely have seen them! Thomas brought the words of a sleep spell to the forefront of his mind and prepared the material component, ready to cast it at a moment's notice, but the soldiers passed them by and stopped a little further on where they were met by the southerners.

     "I couldn't get any kemph," they heard one of them saying. "Will this do?"

     They heard the rustle of paper as something was passed across and Thomas saw Drenn's face twisting into a grimace of disgust.

     "Nice," someone replied. "Okay, here you are." Something was passed back, and then enquiries were made as to the availability of other items, along with suggestions as to what would be an acceptable trade for them. The bargaining continued for some time, interspersed with enquiries as to the health of various family members, and Thomas began to fear that his invisibility spell might lapse before they were finished. He toyed with the idea of putting them all to sleep so they could move on, but there were the other two Malganians, out of range of his spells, who would raise the alarm if they saw their comrades collapse. He gritted his teeth, therefore, willing the spell to last for its theoretical maximum duration and promising the Gods eternal and undying devotion if they would only make the traders finish and go home.

     Maybe the Gods heard, because a moment later the soldiers started saying their goodbyes and returning to their own sides of no man's land. Walking casually and confidently, evidently not in the least bit worried about being seen by their respective superiors in the fortresses, who must have been able to see the whole exchange. These meetings must be officially sanctioned, thought Thomas. By the commanders of the fortresses at least, if not by their masters back in the cities. Drenn was evidently thinking the same thing as the look of disgust on his face deepened.

     The Tharians waited with forced patience until the southerners were back in their fortress and the Malganians were on their way back to their own fastness, and only then did they ease their cramped muscles and continue on.

     They reached the southern side of no man's land just as Thomas was beginning to see the streaks of vivid colour across his vision that told him the spell was about to expire. He ran for the cover of a skyscraper while he was still unseen, then allowed it to lapse and waited with a pounding heart for the others to catch up with him. They remained on their stomachs until they were well into the cover of the crumbling building, and only then did they allow themselves to relax, standing and stretching the stiffness out of their limbs.

     "I don't believe they didn't see us!" gasped Jop Sonno, still being careful to keep his voice down. "We were right there! They only had to look down!"

     "The Gods were with us," said Drenn matter of factly. "The danger isn't ended, though. We need to get away from here as fast as possible."

     "Right," agreed Matthew. "Let's go."

     They made their way, slowly and carefully, away from the border, still alert for patrols and guardposts, and didn't stop to rest until they were several miles away, but even then they didn't abandon caution but travelled only by night for the next two days. They only allowed themselves to really believe they'd made it when they were a full fifty miles inside southern territory and approaching an area that the map said was sparsely populated.