“It always happens to a friend,” said Rigg.

“A friend of a friend,” said Umbo.

“But when you think about what we’ve done—you’ve done—”

“You were part of it,” said Umbo.

“Anything seems possible.”

“Do any of these stories include dangerous stuff? People in other wallfolds who eat babies or something?” asked Umbo.

“No,” said Loaf. “What would they do even if they were baby cannibals, though? Come to the Wall in order to show us their picnic? The Wall would bother them as much as it bothers us. And it affects us for a long way before we’re even close to it. It steers people away. You have to really fight the thing to get within a mile or two of the center of it.”

“How do you know when you’re within a mile of it?” asked Rigg.

“There’s a shimmering in the air,” said Loaf. “Like heat waves, only more sharply defined and kind of sparky. You have to look close and steady for a while, but you can see it.”

“So . . . I think it’s worth a try,” said Rigg. “And I need all of us.”

“I had a hard time with the two of you,” said Umbo. “Add in your mother and sister—”

“Not to mention your extremely trustworthy guard,” said Loaf.

“And then put a whole army right behind us, with arrows and really loud and nasty insults,” said Rigg. “I know. It’ll be hard. It was hard for me, too—not that I have any power to drag you along with me, that’s all you, Umbo—but I could feel the inertia, like dead weight. It was harder for me to concentrate, to stay with the path I was following. And it might be even harder when I’m walking at the same time.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” said Umbo.

“But you can practice, right?” said Rigg. “Between now and the escape.”

“How? Just . . . pick arbitrary strangers and take them back in time?”

“Why not?” asked Rigg. “They won’t know who’s doing it, or even what’s happening. If they try to tell anybody, they’ll just get branded as crazy.”

“That’s right,” said Umbo, “and that’s not a nice thing to do.”

“So don’t practice then,” said Rigg.

“And I could only take them back a few days or weeks, not like what we just did.”

“More noodles?” The bargirl was standing there, waiting for an answer. Umbo hadn’t noticed her walk up. From the look on Rigg’s and Loaf’s faces, they hadn’t either. So much for vigilance.

“No,” said Loaf.

“Then please give my other customers a place to sit,” she said.

Umbo looked and saw a line out the door.

“Sorry,” said Rigg. “We didn’t notice.”

“You looked like you were plotting to overthrow the Council,” said the bargirl with a smile.

“Well, we weren’t, you know,” said Umbo.

“She was joking,” said Loaf.

“Maybe,” whispered Rigg.

They filed out of the place, sidling past the glaring customers who had waited so long in line.

“I’ve got to get back,” said Rigg, once they were out on the street.

“I still don’t know what we’re waiting for,” said Loaf. “Go back, get your sister and your mother and let’s get out of Aressa Sessamo before there’s any emergency or anyone chasing us.”

Rigg looked embarrassed. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” said Loaf.

“Because they won’t come,” said Rigg. “Not until there’s actual danger instead of just my warnings.”

“They don’t trust you yet,” said Loaf.

“No, I think they trust me,” said Rigg. “In the sense that they know I’m not a traitor or anything. They just don’t think of me as somebody who can . . . be in charge or anything.”

“Oh,” said Loaf. “They don’t respect you yet.”

“The only reason we let you be in charge was because you were the one with the money,” said Umbo. “So I guess we don’t respect you either.”

“Thanks so much,” said Rigg.

“Umbo has a point,” said Loaf. “We got into the habit of acting as if you were in charge of everything—it was your money, and your father’s will, and all that, so it made sense.”

“Well, it’s me who has to escape from this wallfold.”

“My point exactly,” said Loaf. “What if Umbo and I stay on this side of the wallfold, and he just sort of extends his power over you from a distance as you pass through?”

“Can you do it from that far away?” asked Rigg.

“I’ve never tried a mile,” said Umbo. “Or even half that.”

“I don’t think I’m in charge of you, or that I have a right to decide for you,” said Rigg. “I hope you come because you’re my only friends in the world and I’m scared of what’s on the other side. Father Knosso died after he got through.”

“So you want us to come with you and die along with you?”

“I want to get through with the best chance of survival. If I leave you two behind, and General C. or whoever is chasing me is right behind us, do you think they’ll give you a free pass for helping the royals escape?”

“It was just a thought,” said Loaf. “Of course we’re coming with you. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you didn’t have the right to order us or command us or even expect us to take such a risk for you.”

“I know I don’t,” said Rigg. “But I’d take those risks for you.”

“Would you?” asked Loaf. “It’s never been put to the test.”

Rigg might have been angry, or he might have been sad—Umbo couldn’t tell by looking at his face. Finally he spoke. “I hope when such a test comes—if it comes—that I’ll prove to be as loyal to you as you’ve been to me.”

“I hope so too,” said Loaf. “But I’ve been in a lot of fights and battles, and you never know who’s going to stand with you and who’s going to cut and run, not till the crisis comes. We followed you here when we didn’t have to. To try and get your property back to you. To help you escape from custody and save your life, if they were planning to kill you.”

“Which they are.”

“We’ve proven we’ll walk back into the lion’s den for your sake. I’d like to think you’d do the same for us.”

Umbo really hated this conversation. “Of course he will,” he said to Loaf.

“When fear takes over, there’s no ‘of course’ about it,” said Loaf. “Nobody knows themselves what they’re going to do, until they either do it or not, in the moment. So far you’ve done a terrific job of acting your parts when the danger was social. But when it’s a blade or a shaft, when the danger is visible and physical and immediate, what will you do?”

“I don’t know,” said Rigg. “I know what I intend to do. But as you said—I can’t prove it, not even to myself.”

“Good,” said Loaf. “As long as you understand that, then I’m willing to give it a try.”

“What if I had sworn that I’d never, never fail you.”

“Then I’d still stand beside you—but I wouldn’t trust you to do the same for me. Now I think there’s a chance, because you’re not a complete idiot.”

“Well, now you’ve really hurt me,” said Rigg. “Father always taught me to complete any task I started.”

They were nearing the richer part of town, where the crowds thinned out and wore better clothes and there were occasional carriages and horses.

“We don’t like going farther than this,” said Umbo. “We don’t want the guards to get too familiar with our faces.”

“I understand,” said Rigg.

“How are you getting through?” asked Umbo. “Do you have a change of clothes?”

“These will do,” said Rigg.

Umbo looked at him again and realized that his clothing was quite nondescript. It wasn’t showy at all, so it hadn’t made Rigg stand out in the crowds of poor and working-class people, especially because he had walked and talked like a privick kid. Like Umbo.

But now, near the rich part of town, Rigg was standing differently. Taller. Still relaxed, but—more in charge of himself. Filled with authority and expectation. Fearless. Like he belonged there. And when he stood that way, his neck a little higher, his movements more calm and restricted and yet more relaxed, too, his clothing looked richer. Still quiet, still modest, but now you could see how every stitch was perfect, how the clothes looked like they’d been made for him, which they almost certainly were.