Twenty

"When you said caves," Edeline teased Ember, "I thought you meant like, you know, actual caves?"
"Apparently Ralph has a different idea," Ember struck back, "and anyway, I did mean real caves. We're in Face Painters country now."
"You mean there are more like him?" Edeline threw up her hands. "I was hoping he was it."
"He wasn't a bad sort," Ember chided. "A little over-sensitive, perhaps."
They were striding easily now through the gentle slopes that wound around the hills in those parts. Periodically they'd emerge from cover into a sunlit section of bare rock stuffed with overgrown weeds. They heard, rather than saw, small creatures dashing in and out of the shrubs, probably mice and lizards and snakes, Ember said. Occasional raptors soared overhead in the otherwise quiet and peaceful surroundings. The path here was wide and easily walked. Anyone observing the two women casually strolling and chatting would have had no idea they were on a mission, or had been separated from their companions.
Anyone, that is, who wasn't a Watcher. Soma had almost creeped out of the forest to get a better look at the Ralph misadventure, and was muttering furiously about the words she was missing. It might have been super-important and she would never be able to report about it. Squee tried explaining to her that anything involving a Face Painter was not going to be serious.
"They're all crazy, you know," he informed her.
"That doesn't matter," Soma retorted. "Even if they are, which I doubt it very much. They must have a reason to do what they do. Everybody does."
"Yeah," Squee countered. "Because they're all crazy," he insisted.
"We can't tell about that," she snapped. "We have to get closer. We're missing it all."
"There's no way," Squee advised. "We have to stay under wraps."
"I know," Soma grumbled, "I know."
Her spirits rose after the women departed from Ralph, and when she overheard them joking about it, she realized Squee was right, that it wasn't a great loss to miss it. Something else began to bother her, though. She was beginning to sense the presence of Smackers. As a Watcher, she'd had run-ins with them many time. The two groups occupied similar space high up in the trees, though where Watchers were methodical and purposeful, while on the job, Smackers were careless and reckless, and didn't pay attention to where they were going. Watchers considered them rude and considerable unprofessional, while Smackers didn't worry about them. To a Smacker, anyone else might as well be a squirrel, just creatures who got in the way. Many times they'd knocked over Watchers or stepped right on top of them, with no apologies given, no concern when a Watcher had fallen as a consequence of their unconscious action.
"What do they want?" Soma queried and Squee sniffed,
"Same thing as always. Their stupid game."
What made the game stupid, in Squee's educated opinion, was the rather odd fact that Smackers weren't on teams. Teams consisted of Strikers, Saviors, Gatherers and Hunters. The rest of the field was all one big Smackfest. They stole balls from the Gatherers, then robbed them many times, from one another, and eventually described them to Strikers, but their comings and goings were utterly random, and there was no way to trace a deliverance from its original theft. Strikers had to live on the edge of unknowing, for a ball, which could be any thing, might be revealed to them any time, at which point the Striker would have to engage the ball with their mind and direct it toward a legitimate goal.
"Sometimes they smell it," Squee said with a serious look that made Soma laugh.
"It stinks?" she said jokingly.
"No, really," Squee lectured. "Just when a new ball comes into play, Smackers all go where they think it will be. Then there's a scrum where they all fight for possession. After that they roar through the forest, chasing each other, stealing and stealing it back. It gets wild. Sometimes they even get hurt. We want to stay out of their way."
"But they're everywhere now," Soma said, "This is going to make our job hard."
"I say we stick to the ground," Squee suggested, and Soma agreed. It would be harder tracking the woman this way, but they managed. They did it so well that Ember and Edeline didn't know they were there. Ember, though, was aware of the gathering Smackers, and it troubled her too. Saviors usually stayed out of their way. It was a Gatherer's problem to worry about. Now that she was stuck with a Gatherer, however, it was also her problem, and Edeline being such a newcomer, it could even be a little bit dangerous.
Twilight was coming on fast, and they'd been traveling much longer than either had realized. Edeline suggested it was getting to be time to make camp, and Ember had pointed out a smooth clearing, where the ground was softer and not very dusty. She thought Edeline might be more comfortable there. They collected some apples from a nearby tree and settled down to enjoy them along with some clover that Edeline had saved from the morning. Both were feeling a tad weary, and sat on the ground, chewing in silence, when Ember perked up her ears, stopped eating, and listened. Edeline noticed and ceased chomping as well, but she didn't hear anything unusual, just the tweeting of birds and the chirping of a lone cricket.
It was the cricket that caught Ember's attention. She turned her head toward the sound and listened intently. The chirping diminished in volume, stopped for a moment, then started again further off. Ember jumped to her feet.
"Come with me," she ordered Edeline, who reluctantly rose and followed. Ember stepped into a hedge and came out on what looked like a deliberate path. The ground was settled as if it were raked, and the sides were lined with small stones, clearly set there on purpose. The path curled about several trees. Edeline wondered where they were going and why, but didn't say anything. Picking up speed ahead of her, Ember still wore a look of great concentration. Edeline hurried to keep up. As she turned the last corner she came to a halt. Ember stood staring at the sheer, flat gray wall of mountain that blocked them. The path simply came to an end. The sheer cliff was towering above them, a hundred feet high at the least. Its surface was totally smooth. Not a root, not a stem, not a twig emerged from it. Curiously, the cliff was only about six feet wide, and uniformly so all the way up, a gigantic impossible rectangle of granite.
Edeline put her hand on the wall. It was warm to the touch, very warm, as if heated by some invisible source. Ember put her hand on it too, and then both hands, then pressed herself fully against it. The rock filled her body with warmth like a blanket. Ember held her cheek against it also, and Edeline followed suit.
"I could do this all day," Edeline purred. It felt unaccountably good. She realized she'd been cold, all over, non-stop for days. Even in the sun she'd felt chilly, but now, this cliff gave her strength, made her feel recovered and healed from the day.
"It's remarkable," Edeline murmured.
"What did you say?" Ember replied dreamily.
"Remarkable," Edeline repeated.