The pair headed into far starker and more rugged countryside, which made it all the more strange to be leaving the Jeeraiy behind. They stopped a few times during that initial climb to gaze back upon the rooftops of Pellinum and watch the sunlight glinting off the waters of the Jeeraiy beyond. It was only then that Tom realised how busy a port this was. There were boats of various types and sizes in the waters around the town, some of which were clearly fishing while others looked to be ferrying either cargo or pa.s.sengers, but none were as quirky or beautiful as the Mud Skipper, which was nowhere to be seen having left the previous evening.

Their course brought them close to the crown of the waterfalls they'd watched from the deck of the boat. For long moments they stood on a rocky knoll, awed by the power and the majesty of the plunging torrents that fed the watery plains below them; as the mist-like fret from the falls dappled their cheeks and dusted their clothes with glistening droplets. Tom was delighted he was able to gaze down on any of this at all without vertigo overcoming him. Whatever measures the prime master had taken to remove his fear of heights were holding up admirably.

Mildra seemed mesmerised by the falls. Tom had a feeling she would have happily stayed there all day. Eventually, after he'd tugged gently at her arm, they moved on, climbing a little above the course of the Thair, which had carved a canyon into the rock. They walked now beside a broad ribbon of surging white water, bursting with energy and violence, a raging torrent, whose growling voice was their constant companion. This seemed utterly different from the deep dark giant of a river that had carried them in the early stages of their venture, or from the vast, placid expanse of the Jeeraiy flood plain that the river would soon become, which made it hard to accept that the same water comprised all three.

For the first time since the earliest days of their journey, Tom's legs began to ache, particularly the backs of his thighs, which made him think that the effort of walking uphill must place different demands on the muscles; wonderful news.

By late morning the terrain had levelled out and the Thair had calmed a little the roar of white water replaced by an altogether more soothing murmur. They came to a lagoon, a spur leading off from the river's course which may have been a natural feature with later human embellishments or could have been entirely man-made, Tom wasn't sure. All he did know was that decorative paving stones bordered the pool around its entire perimeter, providing the lagoon with an unnaturally smooth edge, and that directly opposite the inlet stood a building which simply had to be a Thaissian temple; subtly different in many ways to those he was used to seeing in the City Below, but similar enough that he instantly recognised the general type. As did Mildra, who gave a delighted cry and hurried forward. The path led them around the lagoon directly past the front of the temple. Tom's respect and affection for the Thaistess had grown throughout their journey, but he still felt no inclination to embrace her beliefs, so rather than joining her inside he sat and waited on the temple steps, studying the water. The surface of the lagoon rippled with half-glimpsed life, as scaly forms entwined and slid past one another in some silent ballet. The waters of the pool seemed to be alive with them, and dark fins frequently cut through to momentarily invade the air before disappearing beneath the surface once more. Tom became absorbed in watching the fish, trying to predict when one would next break the surface, and completely lost track of time.

"Thaasiel," Mildra murmured as she came to stand beside him. She sounded almost in awe. "They're holy fish, the water avatars of the G.o.ddess," she explained. "They're the same fish we keep in the temple pools back home, though I've never seen them this big or in such numbers."

Tom stood up and the two of them continued around the lagoon. A girl, swathed in a white shawl, stepped out from the temple and walked daintily down to stand close to where he had been sitting, She commenced to cast a large fistful of something, perhaps nuggets of bread, onto the water. The white pellets soared out, peppering the surface in a broad arc, and wherever they landed the water broiled with scaled forms. The girl was already taking out a second handful from a bowl clasped one-handed to her stomach. After scattering these, she looked across and smiled. Her dark face was narrow and far from pretty, but there was a serene quality about her features and the smile lent them added grace. Mildra raised an arm and waved to her. She took the trouble to pause in the ritual feeding and wave back. No words were spoken, as if such coa.r.s.e human utterances would spoil the moment.

There was a spring to Mildra's step as they walked away from the lagoon, which lightened Tom's heart far more than the sight of the temple or its fish. She hadn't been quite herself since the raid on the village, lapsing into bouts of sullen silence which he didn't know how to respond to.

As they continued, the landscape around them opened up, the slopes on either side growing gentler and greener, though the path itself was covered in loose shale that had the promise of grazed knees written all over it.

Directly ahead of them rose a particularly verdant slope which seemed oddly marked. At first Tom failed to make sense of what he was seeing, but as they drew closer it became clear. Tier upon tier of low walls decorated the hillside, reminding Tom of his home, the City of a Hundred Rows, except that here the rows were used to separate crops rather than people, part.i.tioning the mountainside into a series of staggered fields.

The green shoots of crops could be seen crowding the gaps between the stark paleness of the dividing walls, and here and there people were also in evidence; small pale motes moving among the green, presumably tending the plants. From this distance they looked a little like cavern ants, scurrying around the walls of chewed up rock and earth from which those busy insects built their nest mounds. Comparing these industrious people to such mindless, instinct-driven creatures seemed hardly fair, but he couldn't fully dismiss the image.

Mildra seemed to delight in everything they encountered, maintaining the smile and carefree demeanour she'd rediscovered at the temple, which prompted Tom to comment, "You look happy."

"I am," she replied. "I am."

With that she laughed and danced ahead of him. He hurried to catch up, breaking into a run, his own spirits lifted merely at seeing her like this. Tom was still coming to terms with the wonder of life; the paradoxical way he could feel so cheerful, giddy even, within a few short days of losing first a newfound friend and then a vital companion. The City Below taught pragmatism but offered little by way of this sort of release. In all manner of ways, the world was proving to be a far bigger place than he had ever imagined.

Much to Tom's frustration they left the cultivated slopes with their neat walls and crops behind without meeting any of the people who were so busy tending them. He had been tempted to dally, to climb up to wherever these people dwelt and learn exactly what was grown with such care in those precarious terraces and how the people farming them lived, but Mildra was keen to press on while the light and good weather held. The clear skies of earlier had disappeared as the day progressed and it was a while since they'd seen the sun, which lay hidden behind heavy clouds. The darker the clouds, the more anxious the Thaistess became, her earlier bright mood evaporating. With the sun's disappearance and the higher alt.i.tude, temperatures plummeted, and the pair stopped to unpack some of the thicker clothing they'd bought that morning. By late afternoon Mildra's fears were realised and the first drops of rain started to fall.

Never having seen rain before, Tom thought this was wonderful, holding his face up to feel the heavy drops splatter against his cheeks and forehead. Mildra seemed less impressed.

"You won't be so cheerful when your clothes are sodden through and everything's damp and cold," she a.s.sured him.

At her urging they searched for somewhere to shelter, settling on a small cave little more than a hollow in the rock beneath an overhang, really, but enough to keep them dry. By now the rain had started to fall more heavily and Tom's fascination with the stuff had rapidly faded.

They huddled together for warmth, glad to be under cover as the rain lashed the mountainside in pitiless torrents. Tom was astonished at the ferocity, never having imagined that the sky could hurl down so much water with such vehemence. The path they'd been following now resembled a stream rather than anywhere a person could hope to walk along. The rain stopped as quickly as it had started, but by then darkness had already fallen and they decided to stay where they were until morning, which suited Tom just fine. When they first cuddled, Tom felt awkward, not knowing where to rest his hand. Then, once that hand found a comfortable position somewhere around her stomach, he'd tried hard not to move his fingers, afraid that Mildra might read intent into any slight flexing or involuntary twitch. It took a while for him to relax, but eventually he fell asleep with the warm presence of Mildra's body resting against his side and the smell of her rain-damp hair in his nostrils.

Come morning, everything seemed fresh and new in the wake of the previous day's rain. The clouds had withdrawn and they both felt cheered by the sun's return. It was hard to believe that anything could possibly be wrong in such a bright and beautiful world; apart from the slight crick in Tom's neck where he'd slept awkwardly.

A single great bird soared above them as they set out, splayed wings and strange tail held motionless, giving the impression that its flight required no effort at all. The tail was shaped like the blade of an oar, broad and rounded. An eagle, or so Tom a.s.sumed. Despite being high up, the bird was obviously huge, reminding Tom of the Kite Guard who had caught him in Thaiburley's Residences. That made him think of his ill-judged attempt to escape the razzer's clutches which led to his toppling over the wall; the horror of that sickening fall past Row after Row of the city's walls. Not his most distinguished moment, he had to admit.

"Are you all right?" Mildra asked from beside him.

"Yes," He smiled. "I'm fine."

The bird disappeared behind a craggy peak and they walked on, having to press close to the rock face as they walked beneath a waterfall a cascade that produced a brief curtain of shifting obscurity as the waters tumbled into the Thair. They'd walked for perhaps half the day when a bird far smaller than the eagle caught Mildra's attention; a songbird, all black and yellow stripes with a red flash above each eye. The bird alighted for a second in one of the stunted, th.o.r.n.y trees that bordered the path at this point, trilled a few sweet notes and then took off again, to land in another tree a little higher up.

Mildra impulsively set off in pursuit, leaving the path to clamber over the moss-stained rocks. Despite her urging him to follow, Tom hesitated, strangely reluctant to leave the path. Then, with a shake of his head and a sense that, of the two of them, he was probably supposed to be the reckless one, he went after her. Tom didn't see the bird again though presumably Mildra did, because she kept climbing, and Tom followed.

There was no real path here, and the footing seemed treacherous enough to demand concentration. Tom was therefore taken completely unawares as he crested a rise and came to stand where Mildra had stopped. He could hardly believe the view that opened up before him. For long seconds the two of them stood in silence and simply stared.

They stood at the edge of a high meadow bursting with colour; a vast open area completely carpeted in flowers.

Nearest them were large and small blooms, pinks and purples predominant, though there were broad swathes of red as well, and here and there a splash of yellow, as if some exuberant artist had been let loose with a palette of vibrant colours and allowed to toss them freely in every direction.

"To think we nearly walked right past this without even knowing it was here," Mildra said quietly.

Tom could only nod. He'd never seen anything so bright, so vivid, so joyful, and on top of all this visual wonder there was the intoxicating scent. The air seemed saturated with sweet perfumes which made him want to sing and dance and laugh for sheer joy.

Whereas he merely felt such urges, Mildra acted on them. One moment she was beside him, the next she was ahead once more, arms outstretched like wings, skipping among the flowers, her laughter ringing out over the meadow.

Watching her, Tom felt a grin spread across his face. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy, this unburdened. He ran after her. Then something caught his eye which brought him up short. Off-white and regular, bones poked out from a matt of foliage. He bent down and tugged away creepers and vines and small white flowers, to reveal part of the ribcage from what had been a reasonably large animal of some sort.

"Sad," said Mildra who had come back on seeing him stop. "But all things pa.s.s, Tom, and if you had the choice and knew your time was near, wouldn't you come here at the end? What more beautiful place could there be to say goodbye to the world."

Nor could he argue. He stood straight again, gazing at the sheer beauty around him, and noticed something new. A mult.i.tude of broad-winged insects fluttered between the flowers on quick-beating wings, many of them white, but just as many bore colours enough to challenge the rainbow. The effect was mesmerising.

"b.u.t.terflies!" Mildra exclaimed, evidently following his gaze. She laughed and turned to him again. "Aren't they wonderful, Tom?"

And they were, skimming across the meadow, flitting from flower to flower and at times rising in swirling spirals of dancing colour above the pink and purple blooms. One landed on his wrist red and blue wings, each of which seemed to be daubed with a staring eye. It took off again almost at once, but he delighted in the featherlight tickle of the insect's touch. Others were less welcome, and he swatted at his neck where something had just bitten him.

Mildra was off again, leaping and skipping across the meadow. "Come on, Tom, keep up."

And his feet responded, carrying him after her, while the laughter bubbled forth an upwelling of joy from somewhere deep inside him. Ahead, Mildra had stopped, to spin on the spot with her arms outstretched and head thrown back, face to the sky. After two such stationary circles she dropped backwards, falling onto a cushion of flowers and gra.s.ses. Tom had reached her by then, to fling himself down beside her.

They were both laughing, and the scent of the meadow engulfed him. He stared down at Mildra, and she had never looked more wonderful. Even among all this beauty, hers outshone the rest, and he didn't want to look anywhere else. Without consciously meaning to, he leant forward. She made no effort to turn away, so that her lips were there to meet his. He felt the tip of her tongue dance across his as the kiss progressed, and her hand reached up to stroke the back of his head, his neck. A shiver coursed through his body and for a moment he forgot how to breathe.

A tiny part of Tom's mind remained detached enough to be amazed; he never imagined that his first real kiss would be with a Thaistess. Then even that a.n.a.lytical corner of thought was subsumed by the swell of pa.s.sion, as her kiss grew more urgent and her hands started to clasp and pull at his clothing. His own hands found the soft mounds of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s beneath her shirt, marvelling at how hot and firm yet yielding they were, and he was suddenly desperate to touch and squeeze them unhindered. He tugged at her top, almost tearing it in his haste, dragging the garment upward until the dark peaks of her nipples lay exposed, the shirt compressed to a thick collar of rumpled material caught beneath her arms. He would have abandoned all thought of clothing there but she sat up and was helping him, grasping the hem of the top and drawing it onward over her head, to leave her naked from the waist up.

Before he could take advantage, Mildra was lifting his own shirt up, forcing him to raise his arms and wriggle his shoulders so that the tight garment could slip over them. As his arms and head came free, she fell backward again, to lie on the gra.s.s, giggling. He stared at her, mesmerised, yet the same time strangely daunted by the realisation that this nakedness was for his benefit.

She stopped giggling and reached to place a hand on his neck, drawing his face to hers again, his lips to her lips.

Tom was intensely aware of the hotness of her skin against his, the firm feel of her nipple as it pressed against his chest and the tingling thrill of her fingers as they travelled down his back. All the while the scent of the flowers surrounded him, filling his nostrils and entwining his thoughts.

"Tom, Tom." Somebody was calling his name and pulling at his arm.

"What?" He wished whoever it was would leave him alone. He was quite happy sleeping, thank you very much.

"Tom, you have to wake up!"

He blinked his way to wakefulness, feeling cold and shivery and realising that he was naked from the waist up. Night had begun to fall, bringing its customary drop in temperature. Suddenly the memories came flooding back. With a heady mix of shock, embarra.s.sment and arousal, he remembered the cool sensation of Mildra's lips against his, her pulling off his shirt, the overwhelming l.u.s.t as he felt her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s beneath his fingers, and then... nothing. The next thing he recalled was being woken up now.

"What... what happened?"

"Come on," Mildra urged, as if he hadn't spoken, "we have to go." She was already fully dressed, he noticed, sneaking a quick glance because he couldn't summon up the nerve to look directly.

Tom allowed the Thaistess to help him to his feet, though a petulant part of him wanted to shrug off her insisting hands. In standing up he had to untangle resisting gra.s.ses which had somehow conspired to snag his legs and clothing. He fumbled with his top, pulling it on and mumbling an irritated, "I'm cold," as Mildra urged him to leave that and hurry up.

The Thaistess was on her knees, stripping away tendrils of gra.s.s that appeared to have grown over their packs; but how could that have happened in such a short time? Then the two of them were running, stumbling towards the far side of the meadow.

Though many of the flowers had closed with the setting sun and their heady scent was all but gone, the place still held an ethereal beauty in the twilight, and Tom felt no real desire to rush away despite the girl's insistence.

"Mildra, what's the hurry?"

"I'll explain in a minute, just trust me for now, will you?"

And he did, so picked up his pace to match hers. They continued like that, with Tom keeping quiet until the ground began to rise and they were among the trees beyond the edge of the meadow, the beautiful carpet of flowers behind them. Only then did the Thaistess stop, dropping her pack to the ground and bending forward a little, hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

"All right, so what was that all about?" Tom wanted to know, panting a bit himself.

"The flowers..." Mildra said between gasps. "Their scent, their pollen... It was drugging us, making us want to..."

Tom stared at her in alarm, remembering their shared

pa.s.sion, his arousal, but not able to recall where all of that had led to. "And... did we?" he asked timidly.

"No," she shook her head, and he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. "I realised what was going on, managed to exert enough self-control to stop us."

"How did you stop me?"

She looked at him a little awkwardly. "I put you to sleep."

"You what?"

"Sorry, but I had to. The effect of the pollen was so potent I... I couldn't fight it, couldn't rely on my own willpower... So the only thing I could do was remove the temptation."

Tom shook his head, not knowing whether to feel angry, offended, or what. In the end he started to giggle; quietly at first, but then the bizarreness of the whole situation swept over him, and he couldn't stop. Nor evidently could Mildra, because suddenly they were both laughing, and the more he looked at her face contorted with mirth, the more uncontrollable it became.

As the fits of juddering hysterics subsided, with Tom wiping tears from his eyes, Mildra was again picking up her pack. "Come on, we need to move further away from the meadow before sunrise."

Tom bent to collect his own pack and remembered something else. "When you woke me up just now, I had to pull my pack free from the gra.s.ses. How did that happen?"

"That was the worst part," she replied, striding away so that he had to scramble to keep up.

"How do you mean?"

"I know this sounds silly, but while we were both still you asleep and me sitting beside you the plants started to grow, really fast, extend tendrils over us."

"What?""They didn't move quickly enough that you could actually see them grow; in fact at first I thought I was imagining it, but I wasn't. If you watched the same spot for a few minutes, you could see how the shoots had reached out and moved. I had to keep pulling them off of your legs and body. Remember those bones we found on the way into the field? I think the whole place is a trap; beautiful and seductive but deadly all the same. Imagine, with all those plants and greenery, whole herds of deer and other plant eaters probably come wandering in here. The meadow lures them with its beauty and apparent abundance of food and drives them into a mating frenzy with all that pollen and scent, until they collapse from exhaustion. Then the plants snare them and feed."

"And you think that's what would have happened to us?"

"Yes."

He shuddered. "Thaiss!"

"I know."

He tried to imagine what it must have been like for her, sitting there in the field until nightfall, surrounded by danger and knowing she daren't relax and risk falling asleep. "Thank you," he said.

She smiled. "The worst part was working all this out and wondering if the plants could move any faster and knowing what would happen if I fell asleep."

Even in the fading light, he saw the young Thaistess shiver, and wanted to say something to comfort her, but couldn't think what.

"I couldn't wake you for fear that we'd lose control again," she continued, "and all the while I knew that by staying there we risked..."

"... becoming plant food.""Yes. And there was no one but the G.o.ddess to ask if I was doing the right thing. And if the G.o.ddess answered, I didn't hear her." She sounded close to tears, and he felt tempted to put his arm around her, but in his mind's eye he felt again her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s, saw her face contorted in pa.s.sion, and the memory of what had happened between them just a few hours before stopped him. He couldn't stand the prospect of her pulling away.

"Here, this should be far enough," Mildra declared, her voice br.i.m.m.i.n.g with fragile bravery.

As they spread their sleeping mats she said quietly, "Tom, don't feel ashamed of what happened. It wasn't your fault, wasn't either of our faults."

He thought about her words as he pulled the coverings up and settled down, his back to hers, and realised that he wasn't ashamed. Slightly embarra.s.sed, perhaps, but other than that he felt excited, exhilarated, and secretly even a little proud. As he closed his eyes he saw again the perfect shape of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, felt her fingers stroking his naked back. In truth, there was a large part of him that regretted the Thaistess had stopped things when she did and wished she hadn't come to her senses until a moment or two later, whatever the dangers of their situation.

That thought did briefly shame him, even when memories of the action itself still failed to.

The hunter had no real problem picking up their trail at Pellinum. An attractive young woman travelling with a teenage boy might not be unusual enough to draw attention, but nor did it go entirely unnoticed; not this early in the year when pilgrims were so few. He strode up the path above the town, not pausing to admire the waterfall he'd seen plenty such sights before nor stopping to pay his respects at the temple: he had no time for religious tomfoolery. The pair were no more than a few days ahead and he felt confident of making up the time. After all, they were only a soft and pampered priestess and a wet-behind-the-ears kid, where as he was a professional; a killer born and trained. He'd catch up with them all right.

EIGHTEEN.

Sander adjusted the sleeves on his jacket, pulling them down to his satisfaction, then lengthened his stride and hurried towards home. He'd had to work late again, which was threatening to become the norm. Globes were already out by the time he left the office, and was there any chance of claiming overtime? Not a hope, not now that he was considered part of "management". The company seemed to expect him to put in all the hours under the G.o.ddess simply out of love for the job. Well if they weren't careful they might soon discover just how much he was willing to take. It was about time they appreciated how vital he was. The place would come to a complete standstill without him.

Take today. The wretched barge from Crosston had been late. Again. Not just slightly this time but by a whole three hours, and of course there was n.o.body capable of overseeing the unloading but him. All the cargo had to be checked in and fully logged before he could even think of going home. Frissing job!

There was hardly anyone else on the streets at this hour, just the occasional idiot like him. All the sensible folk were already sitting at home with their feet up, hands cradled around a hot drink, no doubt. Having said that, there was a figure ahead, leaning against the wall; a woman by the look of things probably a wh.o.r.e, though this wasn't one of their usual haunts. If she looked clean, he might even be tempted. He could do with some light relief after the day he'd just had.

Though, as he drew nearer, he was able to see how old she looked, perhaps too old. Shame.

"Sur Sander?"

The words caused his clipped, a.s.sured footfalls to falter. She knew him? She knew him? He peered more closely, and suddenly recognised her. The apothaker, the one he'd bought the love potion from. He peered more closely, and suddenly recognised her. The apothaker, the one he'd bought the love potion from.

"Wh... what are you doing here?" he mumbled in dismay.

"Waiting for you," said a man's voice from close to his ear, and he felt the edge of a blade press against his throat while a firm grip closed on his arm.