Albert had built a small fire while Cadmus was retrieving the final object. The last two pieces to his mysterious companion's puzzle were only a mile apart. Halfway in between them Cadmus had given Albert some short orders about building a camp and had then disappeared at a run to beat the waning light. So it was that when he reappeared, it was out of the darkness, and into the small ring of luminescence that Albert had produced from the short supply of fuel.
There was some light from above, but unlike the moon he had grown up under, the one Albert and Cadmus saw in the sky belonged to a different planet. Both the planet and the moon were visible, and bright. But neither reflected light like Earth's satellite. Instead, the planet and its orb were like a greater and lesser flashlight creating a dull glow in a giant cavern. They were bright enough to obscure other stars in sky, but not bright enough to fill the land with quicksilver. The fire, therefore, was the only real refuge from the night sounds and terrors. So Albert sat as close to it as he dared. Cadmus sat further back, smoking.
"That will kill you, you know," Albert joked.
"I was dead. It didn't take."
Not wanting to enter into another one of their hiccup-like conversations, Albert thought hard about what to say next. He knew that questioning had so far proved fruitless. And so he decided that he was best off talking about himself. This was of course, just as dangerous a mode of conversation as incessant questioning, but Albert was still of the age and experience that held that most change was good change, and so he went for it.
"Cadmus?"
"Hm?"
"Would it be ok if I told you how I came to be here – and about why I want to get away?"
Albert waited for a response, but didn't get one right away. Then Cadmus grunted, but not perceptibly. If it had been a little louder the boy would have been more confident. As it was, the noise only assured him that Cadmus might not mind listening. Not wanting to be accused of not listening himself, Albert felt he must go on the assumption that what he thought he had heard was indeed what he had heard. Which is to say, he felt the grunt had been favorable.
Just as he decided this in his mind and was opening his mouth to begin, Cadmus barked, "well?"
Albert responded confidently with, "right," and launched in.
Albert explained about his life at home. He talked about his parents, who he missed, his life as a boy in the mountains, and the fateful climbing of the tree. He told about his first encounter with the fairies, tried to make sense of those actions but gave up. He told a little about the strange old woman with the scroll, but the words ran out. The story stopped. The boy was not quite sure where to go next. So he went back. Cadmus rolled his eyes, but this was for his own benefit as it had now gotten quite dark and the two travelers sat with the fire in between them.
"Alright. So you have to understand that it wasn't like the fairies knew I was just some stupid kid and so they turned me into a jester because that was a fitting job for me. I mean, they were really mean about it. It didn't have anything, as far as I could ever tell, to do with who I was before I showed up here. They were just really mad about me interrupting the feast. Really mad. They used magic to make me into a living marionette. I couldn't move or talk but had to dance and move in ways that I don't naturally move...Which, now that I say it out loud, also doesn't sound so bad. But it was. Trust me. Being controlled by someone else is no small thing. You don't ever want it to happen to you."
"Albert," Cadmus had leaned forward and shown real interest for the first time since they'd sat there. "Do you suppose I want to be in the body I'm in?"
"Uhm, no?," Albert tried.
"Good guess," Cadmus sarcassamed.
"But it's not like, well, you aren't being forced to. That is, I mean to say you weren't...," but the effort never even turned into a real defense. Albert sat silent.
Cadmus stood up and walked to where he was standing almost over the fire, but still behind it from where Albert sat. Placing his hands on his hips he looked down severely at Albert and said, "Every minute of every day I'm being forced to do what I don't want to do. I am being controlled as long as I wear this body. I can fight it, escape it in my mind, believe it doesn't inhibit me in my heart, but here I am and here it is. There's no getting around it and yes, it is very serious. So don't lecture me, with your makeup and funny clothes, about doing what you would rather not be doing. I agreed to help you leave, remember? I am going to get you out of here and away from jester duty permanently, right?"
Albert nodded, nervously.
"I'm going to help you go home. That's what you want?"
"Yes."
"Well then you need to agree from now on to shut up and listen more if you want that help to continue. Realize, that while you prattle on, we are exposed. I slit the fabric of space and time in six places today. Six! That will not go unnoticed. Doing it once in some parts of this planet will get you thrown in a dungeon for a month. As of now there at least a score of men searching for us and..."
Albert had forgotten his agreement when he broke in with, "Well then what are we doing sitting here? Why don't you assemble your."
But he didn't finish. A low growl from Cadmus reminded Albert of the ascent to silence. Cadmus continued.
"Twenty men - and probably some other things - will already be searching for us. They will be following the trail we've left from spot to spot until they get to this one, right here, where you and I are sitting. But for them to do that will take at least a week. And for me to get us out of here will take three days, maybe four. So if we're to keep that margin of error from slipping out of our favor, I suggest you be quiet about what you think is important. And let me sleep. Can you do that?"
Albert, the balled up remains of him anyway, nodded again, silently. Cadmus nodded back and then said something under his breath about "eternity is supposed to be singular," before stalking back to his spot.
The night grew quiet then as, it seemed to Albert, even the insects and animals went to sleep. Fire cracks and pops were the only present sounds. Shifting air hinted at noise, but it remained far off. Without realizing that he was doing it, Albert inched closer and closer to the fire, and just a little bit nearer to Cadmus. The boy could see the falling of eyes, and that Cadmus was making ready to go to sleep, so he ventured one more question. The night had become quite complete around them now, and he was feeling its fingers at the back of his ears. He needed a comfort.
"Cadmus?"
"Hm?"
"Why are you helping me?"
Cadmus stopped his preparations and considered how much he would share with the boy. As he did, the quiet rushed back into the space Albert had tried to fill by asking his question. The boy noticed this. He could tell that even the fire noises were growing faint now, and his heart rate quickened. He felt alone. He remembered his mother. He tried not to cry.
"I actually want to go home, too," Cadmus finally answered. The words came mournfully and begged not to be questioned. But, at the same time, they dispelled a little fear and soothed Albert's soul.
"Well, thank you," Albert responded after his own moment of consideration. "It means a lot."
"Yeah," Cadmus agreed. "Home." And though it meant different things to both of them, the word, and the ideas it conjured, were enough to help them both go to sleep.
The next morning was bright and warm. It was enough of a contrast to the previous night's cold that Albert had nearly forgotten his fears. When he first woke he hadn't moved. He lay where he was, under the sun, drinking in the sounds of a new day, the impending heat and fresh air. He closed his eyes. The light was still there, behind his eyelids. But then it wasn't. A shadow fell across him and he opened his eyes to see a halo of light and shimmering scales looming over him.
"Rise and shine, Mr. Louis. Trans-planetary travel tubes don't build themselves."
Albert got up without delay. Cadmus had been busy. From somewhere - close by, Albert imagined - his dragonish partner had procured what passed for fish in these parts, and had roasted them over the renewed fired. The two ate in silence.
The nearness of water was confirmed after the meal when Cadmus directed Albert over a nearby hill and down to a medium-sized river. But Albert knew not to waste time. A quick drink and wash later, Albert was back at their camp, standing silently. This evidently threw Cadmus a little as he cocked his head and reexamined the boy. But Albert just stood waiting, and so Cadmus proceeded to lead the boy to where six metallic and bejeweled objects were laid out in a circle on the ground.
"These," Cadmus explained, "are the components of a trans-planetary travel tube. Once assembled, they will insert a navigable breach into the Cosmos." Albert was looking a little confused so Cadmus tried again.
"They make a hole we can walk through, from this planet to another." Albert nodded, knowingly, but continued to keep his mouth shut. Impressed, Cadmus kept going.
"The combination of the parts must be done in a specific sequence, and over a rather lengthy stretch of time. If done properly, it will allow us to walk from this world to another in this galaxy instantaneously. If we mess up the process, or don't pay close enough attention to detail, the tube won't work, our hunters will reach us, and you will never get away. Do you understand?"
"I think so. What do I need to do?"
"I'm glad you asked. That's where I was going next." Cadmus reached down and picked up an object from the circle. It was round, with flat sides and a hole in the middle. It looked like a giant washer or flattened aluminum doughnut. The dwarf held it up so Albert could see it properly.
As he did, Albert's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. The object wasn't very large, one of his hand's breadth across maybe. And the surface wasn't special either – very much like aluminum or dull chrome. But the hole in the middle was something else entirely. As Cadmus held the ring up to eye level, Albert could see that what was visible through the hole wasn't the sky, or the world he was on even. Through the hole in the ring Albert could see another world entirely. Coming closer, Albert could see that the other world wasn't just visible, but accessible. If he were to reach his arm through the whole it would cease to be in this world and begin to be in whatever other place existed on the other side of the ring. Unintentionally, he had raised his hand to test this theory when Cadmus ordered, "Stop!"
"Listen carefully boy," Cadmus warned, "this is the heart of the portal. Once you start going through you can't stop. You put even a fingernail in, and the tube will pull the rest of you through. Now, we can make the opening bigger, or you can let it squeeze you through this hole. What would you prefer?"
Albert stepped back.
"Good. Now understand, the opening is always open, but not always to the same place."
Even as he said this, Albert could see the world behind the hole was not the one he had seen previously.
"We, in fact, can't control exactly which world we get to," Cadmus explained. "These portals were developed by Lingotts. They're a race of creatures that exist on a different plane than we do. They can live in what we understand to be unlivable conditions, and they can travel short distances at very high speeds. But they can't do long distance,s and they get tired out by the short trips pretty quickly. They made these tubes to jump from one point to another quickly. The exact point wasn't of much concern to them. As long as they could hit the right arm or ring of a galaxy, they could manage. Are you still getting this?"
"I think so. But, it's all incredible. A hole in the universe? Lingotts?"
Cadmus laughed. "This is magic, boy. You should know by now that magic doesn't alway make sense the way you want it to."
"But then how do we know this thing will work the way we want?"
"Faith."
"You have to have faith in magic," Albert pressed. Cadmus was annoyed again. The morning had started well, but Albert was back at the dead horse, stick in hand.
"Boy, I have said before and I will say again, I don't know everything. I can't know everything, and neither can you. SO SHUT UP! Please. And just do what I ask. Is obedience beyond you?"
"No," Albert said sullenly and to the ground. "But you didn't have to yell."
"I said please," Cadmus countered, sans irony.
"So you did," Albert offered. And their work began.