It would have been interesting to get to know these people, as he imagined Rigg was getting to know people in other wallfolds. But that was not his errand. He would rather avoid contact with them.

Yet he could not avoid it in the obvious ways—by slicing time, or jumping back and forth in time as the people’s paths made it seem advisable. For if he strayed from this exact timeline, how would the flyer find him?

He saw the path of the man who spotted him, as he watched, then ran off through the woods to report. He saw the paths of the people gathering to intercept him. Apparently strangers here were rare—or at least, strangers coming from the direction of the Wall. He wondered how long it would take the flyer to reach him. He knew they were fast, but this fast? And would the ship send the flyer with urgency? Or at leisure?

Noxon walked to the middle of a large meadow and stood there waiting. Soon they formed a ring around him, out of sight to his eyes, just inside the shelter of the trees.

“I am a visitor from beyond the Wall,” said Noxon.

They made no sound, but he imagined their consternation at hearing their own language spoken by a stranger. Especially a stranger with a weird, semi-human face.

Then he saw the arrows coming toward him and realized that people responded to consternation in different ways. One of them was to kill the alarming stranger.

By now he was able to jump into time-slicing almost as quickly as Param. But he did not dare to slice his way too rapidly into the future. He had to remain in this spot until the flyer arrived.

Which was almost immediately, though it might have felt to Noxon like less time than actually passed. Certainly the first wave of arrows had all hit the ground, having passed through seeming nothingness—though Noxon felt them all as heat passing through him. They were very good at hitting what they aimed at. He knew the flyer had arrived by the way the people, who had started walking out into the meadow, suddenly rushed back to the cover of the trees.

A ladder dropped down out of the sky. Noxon stopped his time-slicing, dashed for the ladder, and began to climb. The flyer rose into the air, the ladder rose into the flyer, and they were gone before any arrows could find the range.

Inside the flyer, Noxon found Father waiting for him.

“You timed your arrival well,” said Noxon.

“Good thing, too. The flyer was all for leaving when it found you had disappeared.”

“Do you mind if I call you Father?”

“You can call me whatever you like,” said Father. Or Ramex. “Do you expect me to call you Noxon instead of Rigg?”