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“I like to know where I am, that’s all.” The mapmaker’s eyes darted right and left. His eyes latched on the bee as it returned to the flowers. “Let’s burn a section. Maybe that will do the interrupting thing you tried to do by killing the bee.”

Bardon and Kale both looked to Regidor, waiting for the more proficient wizard to pass judgment on the idea.

“I don’t think we can get an illusion to catch fire. But I don’t mind giving it a try.”

“You got the fire to start to cook the soup.” Bromptotterpindosset whined, sounding as if he accused the meech of some kind of trickery.

“I used material from my hollows,” said Regidor with a sigh. “You didn’t see me gather any wood, did you?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. He glared at each of the others in turn and then grabbed a stick from the fire, holding the end that stuck out from the coals.

He poked the stick under a bush, but the branches sizzled to black and then reformed. He tried burning old leaves on the ground, but they did the same thing. In disgust, he threw the lighted branch down in the dirt. It burned for a minute and slowly went out.

Bromptotterpindosset sat down hard on the log. “We aren’t going to get out. We’ll die here. There’s no real food to eat after Regidor runs out of his supply. No water to drink, either. We’re trapped.”

Regidor sat down beside him. “We’re a long way from being dead, my friend. Wulder has not abandoned us.”

“Wulder? Wulder! You think a fable can help you?”

“Well, He has in the past.”

“I don’t believe in your Wulder. He does not exist.”

Regidor chortled. “I would be very worried if Wulder said that about you.” He spoke in an authoritative voice. “‘I don’t believe in Bromptotterpindosset. He does not exist.’” The meech dragon clapped the tumanhofer on the back. “If He said that, my dear friend, then you would not exist. However, your saying such a thing about Him does nothing but make noise in the air. And that noise is soon gone.”

“So, is your Wulder going to break this illusion and show us the way out?” The mapmaker rubbed both hands over his face, ending with his palms covering his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “If we must depend upon a myth, then we shall truly perish.”

“This ‘myth’ can turn a stream or a river from one path to another. And He also turns the minds of men to one destiny or another. I would not be surprised if the way of our salvation has not already been established.”

Bromptotterpindosset groaned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” said Kale, “that someone is already on the way to rescue us. Or, the collapse of this fancy illusion has already been devised.”

“You really believe that?

“Yes.”

“If we get out of here in the next hour, or even today, I’ll think about your Wulder being more than a figure in a fable.”

Regidor stood. “You would still hesitate, even if He clears a way out of this illusion in less than an hour?”

The tumanhofer stood, puffed out his chest, and glared at the meech dragon. “No! By the word of Bromptotterpindosset. If we escape this madness, I’ll believe in your Wulder. Or at least, try.”

“Even to the point of reading the Tomes and learning more about Him?”

“I’ll spend the rest of my days chasing down every fact I can discover about this marvelous myth.”

Regidor shook his head, but a big grin broke the solemn expression he’d worn just previously.

“No myth. He’s Wulder. And you are going to find out the risk involved in challenging the all-powerful Creator.”

A rough shout resounded across the forested region. “There. There they are. Onward, we shall capture them.”

Bromptotterpindosset jumped and grabbed Regidor’s arm. “Grawligs.”

The wizard meech laughed. “Yes, it would be just like Him to use the lowly mountain ogres to do His will, but have you ever known a grawlig to speak in a complete sentence?”

“Here now,” the voice from the woods spoke again, “who’s put all this muck in my way? Be gone, you falsified flowers. Off with you, you bloodless creatures. Of what