Another Quest

I'd give anything if I could go to a beauty shop."

Abbie Roberts was a petite girl of thirteen. She had blonde hair, and her blue eyes gave off sparks as she ran her hands through her long locks. "And a manicure," she added. "Look at these fingernails! They'll never be the same again!"

Sarah Collingwood, sitting across from Abbie, was one year older. She did not have Abbie's spectacular good looks, but she was small and graceful with large brown eyes and black hair.

"Abbie," she said with some irritation, "you might as well forget about such things as beauty shops. You may have had things like that in Oldworld, but they're gone forever."

The two girls sat at the mouth of a small cave and had been staring out into the late afternoon dusk. Both wore clothes that were much the worse for wear. Abbie's blue dress had a torn skirt and was practically stiff with dirt. Sarah's garb was not much better—a pair of jeans with ragged cuffs and a tan shirt with most of the buttons replaced by pins. Both were hot and tired and hungry.

Abbie glared. "I think this camping out is terrible. I liked it much better when we were at Camelot—or even down in Atlantis." She picked up a cloth, went and dipped it into the small stream that ran beside the cave, then wrung out the excess water. Wiping her face, she protested again. "I need some face cream. My skin's getting as rough as rhinoceros hide."

"We'll just have to make the best of it." Sarah looked again into the gathering darkness. "I wish the boys would come back. It's going to be dark soon, and I'll bet there are wild animals around here."

Abigail said abruptly, "Let's wash our hair. I can't stand it when my hair gets stiff with dirt like this."

"We don't have any soap." Sarah gave her companion a critical look. "I wish you'd just learn to be patient, Abbie. We knew this was going to be a hard trip."

The Seven Sleepers had just completed an adventure at a strange place called Camelot. Their heads were still filled with visions of ladies and jousting knights and even dragons.

It was the sort of adventure they would have enjoyed in their earlier lives. But their time in Oldworld had been cut short by a terrible war. They had survived only because their parents placed them in sleep capsules. Years passed, and the world changed completely so that when they came forth they were shocked to find themselves living in the midst of strange creatures and alien landscapes. Then they were called to spread the news that Goél, a strange shadowy figure, was going to bring order and peace to Nuworld, as it was called.

"When do you think we'll get out of this terrible forest?" Abbie asked irritably.

"I don't know."

"Well, I think Goél could have arranged things a little better. If we have to go from place to place, I don't see why he can't give us better transportation."

Sarah rose to her feet suddenly, biting her lip. She was tired and hungry, and Abigail's constant complaining got on her nerves. She walked downstream a few feet, stopped and listened, then said, "Someone's coming!"

Abbie scrambled up and came to stand beside Sarah. Her eyes grew large, and she whispered, "I hope it's them—but it could be anybody out in the middle of this forest."

The two girls peered into the wall of huge trees that flanked the stream.

The voices Sarah had heard grew louder, and then, as three young men stepped out from the shadows, she cried with relief, "It's Josh—and the others! I hope they brought something to eat." She ran across the small clearing to the leader. "Josh, are you all right? We were getting worried."

Josh Adams was fourteen. He was tall and gangling, but there was a promise of strength and grace in his growing form. He was not handsome, and yet there was reliability and steadiness in his face. He had auburn hair that caught the last rays of the sun, and blue eyes. He had been the first Sleeper, the one called to find the rest. He had grown especially close to Sarah.

"Sure, we're OK, Sarah. Just tired and ready to eat."

One of the other boys held out a sack. "We've got three rabbits," he said. "That'll be enough to eat tonight."

"Oh, good, Jake," Sarah said. "Give them to me. I'll clean them."

Jake Garfield was thirteen, a Jewish boy, small with red hair and intense brown eyes. He handed over the bag. "I wish they'd been yearling calves though. I'm hungry enough to eat one."

The other boy was the smallest of the three. He was twelve, and his black face was split now by a gleaming white smile. "I'll clean those rabbits, Sarah," he said. "I don't mind."

"Oh, thank you, Wash. But you all go rest while Abbie and I do the cooking."

The boys threw themselves down in front of the cave, groaning with relief.

Sarah borrowed a knife from Josh and dressed the rabbits, gutting them while Abbie quickly gave herself to building a fire. She managed to cut some saplings into sticks, and the girls soon had the game roasting over the yellow flame.

When the rabbits were almost done, two more boys came in. Dave, the tallest of the Sleepers and the oldest at fifteen, called out, "We've got another rabbit if we need it." He was athletic, very handsome. He had yellow hair and blue eyes and walked with a springy step.

"Reb," he said to his companion, "that was a good shot. I don't think I could have gotten that one."

The final Sleeper was the most spectacular of all. At fourteen, he was very tall. He had light blue eyes and pale, bleached hair. He wore a Stetson as only a cowboy would wear it. In fact, he had been a kind of cowboy, growing up in Texas in his old life. He grinned now and said, "Shucks, that wasn't no shot at all, Dave. If I'd of had my 30–30, I'd of got that deer we seen a ways back."

"Well, I wish you had it." Dave sat down beside the three boys at the cave mouth. "I wish Goél would let us have rifles. Sure would make life simpler."

All seven young people showed the marks of long travel. They had had time for only quick splashes of water on their faces as far as bathing was concerned, and now they were about to find themselves back in a civilization again.

For a while, Dave did most of the talking. He spoke about their recent adventures, and he grinned at Reb. "Do we still have to call you 'Sir Reb' now that we're out of Camelot?"

"Oh, I reckon not."

Reb had been the hero of their adventure there. A natural horseman and having been a rider all his life, he had been able to do things in that country that the others could not. Now the darkness closed about them, and the flickering firelight reflected on Reb's pale blue eyes. "I liked that place," he said slowly, "about as well as any place I ever seen."

"Even better than Texas?" Jake asked.

"Well, maybe not that good—but except for Texas I guess it was about the best place I was ever at."

"I think you just had a case...