'I know.'

I stood. 'Old feet tell loud stories. You must be very excited.'

'I am now we've been let out of the hold. A week is a long time to spend in the same room with four other people.'

'Even if one of them is your best friend?'

Stockwood smiled. The lines on his face were a map to his feelings. I tried to imagine how old he was. More than fifty summers. It seemed incredible. The oldest man in our village had been barely thirty summers - and he was lame and had to be fed or he would have died. The smile did not last long. 'They've taken the rongo-rongo,' rongo-rongo,' he said quietly: And my notes.' I rea.s.sured Stockwood with a scowl. 'The last man to try to steal the he said quietly: And my notes.' I rea.s.sured Stockwood with a scowl. 'The last man to try to steal the rongo-rongo rongo-rongo is dead. So will they be if I have anything to say of it. We must wait our chance and then strike.' is dead. So will they be if I have anything to say of it. We must wait our chance and then strike.'

'I noticed they let you keep your knife.'

'You saw how many I drew blood from when they tried to take it from me.'

'But you haven't killed anyone yet.'

'The Doctor made me swear. On my honour. The Hunter's Promise. I cannot kill her now. Not while this village floats upon water. Everyone knows this.'

Stockwood nodded slowly, his grizzled head bouncing gently off the warm afternoon breeze. 'The Doctor seems to be very pally with her.'

I frowned. 'Do not accuse the Doctor of betraying us, Stockwood. I know him. He would rather die.'

'I wonder.'

A flying fish leapt the starboard rail at head height. Stockwood ducked, spry for a man of his age. I let the fish go. It hit the deck with a wet slap and slithered beneath the rail and back into the sea with a splash, disturbing on its way three gulls perched on the rail waiting for their next free meal. I considered making the gulls our next meal - but Jack had warned me they were bad eating, the meat stringy, the bones sharp, sometimes dangerous.

I put the flying-fish fins and the needle and yarn back into my pouch.

Stockwood was still staring out from the stern rail, eyes fixed on some horizon only he could see. A horizon thirty summers old. I touched him on the shoulder, my fingers light; part comforting, part curious.

'Stockwood.'

'Yes, Leela?'

'In my tribe the old are revered for their wisdom and skill. You are nearly twice the age of anyone in the Sevateem.'

He did not turn, but his voice showed he was pleased with my words.

'Why, Leela, my dear, I do thank you. That's a very kind thought. But I fear I may not be as wise or skilled as you think.' He hesitated. 'Things are different in this world - in my Place of Land. So are people. We live longer and we make more mistakes. Most of these mistakes won't kill us. In some ways we are very lucky like that. But some mistakes - some errors - stay with us our whole lives. They can never be forgotten, and should never be forgiven.'

I nodded. 'You understand the way of the hunter. When you are responsible for the death of a fellow hunter you must make the atonement.

For us the punishment is physical. For you it is inside your head. It does not matter: the pain is the same. Here. Give me your hand.'

Trusting, he did so. Quickly, so he could not pull away, I took out my knife and cut a deep slash into his forearm. I held him when he tried to pull away. 'Do not move!'

To his credit he did not utter a sound louder than a surprised gasp.

I muttered the words of invocation over the fresh wound. ' "Reroute control from main to subsystem, confirm transfer, seal and lock." ' I thrust my hands forward, fingers splayed in the Position of Transfer, and waved them across the cut I had made in Stockwood's arm. 'Now this wound carries your guilt so that you will not have to.' I looked into Stockwood's tear-filled eyes. 'Do you understand? The Doctor says everyone makes mistakes. He says it's how we learn. The wound carries your pain so that you do not have to feel the guilt any more.'

Stockwood wiped a hand across his face. He composed himself with an effort, bandaging his arm with a small cloth taken from his top pocket. I was amused. As a bandage the cloth was hopelessly small. 'My dear, I -' He winced. 'I don't know what to say. I don't believe anyone since my late wife has offered me such - ah! - such a kindness.'

'Your wife was wise.' I took his eyes with my own. 'As I said, in my tribe age is respected.' I held his gaze for several moments. 'Wisdom and skill must be pa.s.sed on or the tribe will die.'

His eyes widened - and not with pain. 'My dear, if you are saying what I think you are saying, then you may rest a.s.sured that I am most flattered, and indeed thankful but, more's the pity, completely unable to implement - er, that is, perform the - um, well, you see, it's been a very long time and, well, under the circ.u.mstances I feel it would be inappropriate to - well... you know. Don't you?' I said nothing. 'Oh dear.

I suppose the truth of it is I'm simply not up to much these days.'

I stopped his words with a smile. 'You do not know yourself as well as you might, Horace Stockwood, my best friend. And you do not know your body half as well as I do.'

His face turned bright red. I had not seen such awkwardness since childhood.

'Oh. Um. Yes. Well. You know, I think that smells like cooking fish.' He moved away quickly, his feet, though shoe-clad, still familiar with the deck and its movement. I watched him go.

A movement from above caught my eye. I looked up at the Doctor, balanced casually on the spanker boom. His hair stuck out in all directions and his scarf was a plaything for the wind. His shoes barely touched the oiled teak of the boom. Anyone else would have fallen prey to the movement of the ship and been tossed overboard directly.

'They do things slightly differently here, you know.'

'Yes' I agreed. 'They are stupid and guilty and old and do not see what is right in front of their faces!'

The Doctor laughed.

'Doctor. Stockwood says you have become friendly with the woman. Is this true?'

The Doctor twirled his scarf absently. He did that whenever he was trying to think of a way of avoiding answering a question.

'Stockwood. Yes. An intelligent man. You know, he was right. That skipjack does smell good. I wonder if the cook has any sauce tartare.' He leapt from the boom and, sure-footed as a webspinner on the tilting deck, wandered after the smell of cooking fish, leaving me to my thoughts and memories of our first meeting with Horace Stockwood, so many nine-days ago in the Land of Eng.

2.

Expedition I stood beside the Doctor and we both listened as Horace Stockwood finished his story.

'I'm not a coward. You have to know that about me. I'm not a coward and I'm not a thief. I don't slink around in the night like some archaeologists I could name, with a gun and the thought of personal gain uppermost in my mind. I don't. Truly I don't. You have to believe me. I was only running that night because... well, because I was in mortal fear for my life. The islanders were chasing me because they wanted my life... they wanted my soul. I saw what they did to Alexander. They thought we were G.o.ds - fulfilling some terrible prophecy. The rongo-rongo rongo-rongo was incidental. I am sure of that. Well, I am sure of it now. Then, of course, well... things were very different.' was incidental. I am sure of that. Well, I am sure of it now. Then, of course, well... things were very different.'

I watched the old man carefully. Old eyes in an old face. That didn't change anything. Nor conceal anything. Not from a hunter. Did Stockwood know he was lying? His body knew it, even if his mind did not. I looked at the Doctor, who was standing by a hole in the wall bordered by flat rocks with a fire in it. The Doctor's expression told me nothing. His body also told me nothing - beyond his interest in Stockwood's tale.

Stockwood rose, his grey hair tanned by the firelight. He opened the door to a shelf in another wall - this one made of wood - and took out a water bag. I watched the bag with interest. The only water bags I'd ever owned had been made out of horda stomachs. They were soft and, though tanned well, rarely lasted longer than a summer before rotting away. This water bag was different. It was hard and clear, like ice, but it did not melt in the warm room. I had seen such things before - but I did not understand them. Stockwood poured some of the contents of the bag into a cup, also made out of the same not-ice.

I felt the Doctor looking at me. 'It's called gla.s.s.' gla.s.s.'

'Not cup?' cup?'

'No. The cup is called a gla.s.s.'

That I understood. I pointed at the water bag. 'Gla.s.s.' Stockwood looked up, shook his head in a gentle negative. 'Decanter. Bottle.'

I felt agitated. 'I don't understand. The gla.s.s is called gla.s.s. But the bottle is called gla.s.s too?'

Stockwood ventured a weak smile. 'It's what's inside that matters.' He continued to pour water from the gla.s.s to the gla.s.s.

I watched Stockwood for a moment, noting the set of his limbs, the angle of his head. I tried to catch his eye but he avoided my gaze. I looked instead at the Doctor. 'Stockwood is like an animal,' I said quietly: Trapped by hunters'

The Doctor glanced distractedly at me. He nodded, curly hair bouncing around his face so that I wanted to giggle. 'You're right. Only this time the hunters are memories and we're here to rescue him'

'We are?'

'Oh yes' The Doctor beamed, grabbed a handful of his scarf and began to wiggle it distractedly. I knew this meant he was thinking so I said nothing. I just waited. Stockwood finished pouring his drink, gulped it down and returned to his throne. I watched him walk. He was so old.

Oh, the Doctor once asked me to believe he was over seven hundred and fifty summers old but it was obvious he was playing a child's game of pretend. I told him I was a minion of the Evil One and he laughed. I got angry then and he changed the subject.

I felt Stockwood staring at me. I was used to that. Men in my tribe did it all the time. I drew my dagger and showed it to Stockwood. 'I am a hunter. I will choose a mate in my own time.' It was not an invitation to fight, more a gesture of respect. But I held the dagger in the killing grip, point up, just in case. With animals you could never tell.

A moment pa.s.sed. I smelled Stockwood sweating. Fear. Then Stockwood showed me his teeth. The Doctor did that a lot. He called it a smile. smile. He said it meant he was 'happy - sometimes sad, but generally happy'. I wondered how Stockwood could be happy when he was so badly haunted by memories of his friend. He said it meant he was 'happy - sometimes sad, but generally happy'. I wondered how Stockwood could be happy when he was so badly haunted by memories of his friend.

Stockwood said, 'You're making me nervous, Leela, standing there like that. You're as still as a statue. Why don't you sit down?'

I glanced at the Doctor. He nodded. I picked a clean stretch of cloth covering the ground close to the fire and sat down. I sheathed my dagger, though I held myself in readiness for anything unexpected.

Stockwood showed me his teeth again. 'I meant on the sofa.'

What was a sofa? I looked around quickly. There were several thrones, some holes in the walls, lots of wooden shelves and flat stones with paintings on. Some hollow things made of... gla.s.s with flowers in. Even the cloth on the ground was painted. But there was nothing to tell me what a sofa was. And I did not like not knowing. I said carefully, 'We are in your temple. It would not be respectful.'

Stockwood's lined face creased in a way I did not understand.

But he had stopped sweating. 'It's not a temple. It's a house.' Obviously the ritual of sofa sofa was not that important. I felt myself begin to relax. The fire was warm. I was close to the Doctor. I felt safe here. I didn't need a was not that important. I felt myself begin to relax. The fire was warm. I was close to the Doctor. I felt safe here. I didn't need a sofa. sofa.

I kept watching Stockwood as he continued to talk to the Doctor. I did not listen to the words. I found out everything I needed to know about Stockwood by using the Hunter's Eye. ' You You must see the broken stem, the must see the broken stem, the blood spilled on a turned leaf. You must see the set of the eyes, the quiver blood spilled on a turned leaf. You must see the set of the eyes, the quiver of the nose and ears. You must test the air for scent and judge it for fear of the nose and ears. You must test the air for scent and judge it for fear or madness. You must let yourself become the prey, respect it, offer or madness. You must let yourself become the prey, respect it, offer prayers to it; know it as you will one day know your mate, your child. prayers to it; know it as you will one day know your mate, your child.

Only then may you kill.' When my father told me that I laughed aloud, set my crossbow and shot a web-tree spinner from its high coc.o.o.n. I set the bow again and killed its young when they came to nuzzle their dead parent. I was only ten summers old but the kills were clean. My family had meat for an entire pa.s.sage of the lesser moon, but father did not speak to me for a long time. It was another full summer before I understood what he had been trying to teach me. my father told me that I laughed aloud, set my crossbow and shot a web-tree spinner from its high coc.o.o.n. I set the bow again and killed its young when they came to nuzzle their dead parent. I was only ten summers old but the kills were clean. My family had meat for an entire pa.s.sage of the lesser moon, but father did not speak to me for a long time. It was another full summer before I understood what he had been trying to teach me. 'Anyone can kill, 'Anyone can kill, Leela. The skill is in understanding. Understanding is a tool like the axe Leela. The skill is in understanding. Understanding is a tool like the axe or the Janis thorn, only much more dangerous.' or the Janis thorn, only much more dangerous.'

I understood Stockwood. He was an animal. A man, yes, but an animal too, in his desire for the trappings of this comfortable temple, his desperation, his lack of self-awareness. Stockwood was not confused.

Animals never are. They do not understand enough to be confused, and they run away from whatever frightens them. Animals will run before fighting. And animals do not know when they are to die. I understood more about Stockwood from the story he had just told us than he did himself.

And it was clear to me that Stockwood would die soon.

I wriggled with satisfaction. I was clever and the fire was warm and that was good. The Doctor was still listening intently to Stockwood. I listened for a moment, then reached into my belt pouch and pulled out a square of fragile cloth. There were marks on the cloth. They were like the marks on the holy relics of the Sevateem. I couldn't understand them of course, but I knew what they meant. The Doctor had told me and I had memorised his words.

The holy marks meant, The Times, London, 21 August 1872. The Times, London, 21 August 1872. The Doctor had told me this cloth was a sheet from something called a The Doctor had told me this cloth was a sheet from something called a newspaper. newspaper. He said there was a different newspaper every day. I thought this was good: the cloth was so flimsy I could poke a hole in it with my fingers. I did so now to prove how strong I was. The hole joined others beside different marks, ones I had been told meant, He said there was a different newspaper every day. I thought this was good: the cloth was so flimsy I could poke a hole in it with my fingers. I did so now to prove how strong I was. The hole joined others beside different marks, ones I had been told meant, Noted Archaeologist Noted Archaeologist Seeks Sponsorship for Expedition to South Seas. Seeks Sponsorship for Expedition to South Seas.

I had no idea what the words meant until the Doctor explained them to me earlier that day. Now it was clear: Stockwood wanted to return to Rapa Nui. The Doctor told me that Stockwood probably thought there was an important scientific truth there, waiting to be discovered. I heard the word scientific scientific and shuddered. That word I knew. It was both the word uttered by the Tribe of Tesh whenever they captured members of the Sevateem and the G.o.d they invoked when torturing their prisoners. and shuddered. That word I knew. It was both the word uttered by the Tribe of Tesh whenever they captured members of the Sevateem and the G.o.d they invoked when torturing their prisoners.

The memory made me angry. I touched my neck, shoulder and hip briefly. The Doctor had once told me the gesture had special meaning. He said it was the check sequence on a Starfall check sequence on a Starfall 7 7 s.p.a.cesuit. s.p.a.cesuit. I didn't understand that. But he was right. The gesture was important. It gave me comfort. Just as holding this holy cloth gave me comfort. Comfort in knowing that I had a talisman of the Tesh. Knowing I had power over them. Even here, so far from the Land. I didn't understand that. But he was right. The gesture was important. It gave me comfort. Just as holding this holy cloth gave me comfort. Comfort in knowing that I had a talisman of the Tesh. Knowing I had power over them. Even here, so far from the Land.

The Doctor spoke then, and I quickly put away the talisman. I could feel his voice through the floor. In the Land there had been those of the tribe who could touch the ground and know when a storm was coming. I could never do that. But now I knew what it must have felt like. To feel a thing and know that it had power to affect you, even kill you, before you even saw it coming. The feeling was frightening. But good-frightening. I shivered.

The Doctor said, 'I don't understand why you felt the need to advertise for financial backing. Surely there are establishments which would provide you with support?'

I listened to the Doctor's words and tried to understand them. What was advertise? advertise? What was What was establishment? establishment? I concluded that in this Land there must be high priests whose permission must be sought before any journey could be allowed. I concluded that in this Land there must be high priests whose permission must be sought before any journey could be allowed.

Stockwood's answer told me I was right. 'My observations of the walking stones were made thirty years ago. Since publishing I have been treated as a scientific pariah. A lunatic. The scientific community has held me up to fifty different sorts of ridicule. I have even been expelled from the town library society. Such research as I have been able to conduct over the years has been funded by my family money. My father left me a thirty-room mansion in Kent when he died. I sold it twenty years ago. The money lasted less than five years. My own personal fortune has dwindled so much so that even this, my town house and only remaining home, dilapidated as it is, is under threat of repossession.'

'My dear Horace.' The Doctor smiled. smiled. 'It sounds to me as though you need a date with Lady Luck.' 'It sounds to me as though you need a date with Lady Luck.'

'I need a date with a sympathetic banker.'

The Doctor reached a long arm across to Stockwood and pretended to pluck something from the older man's ear. 'Bankers are ten a penny if you know where to dine and what to order.' He handed Stockwood something that glittered, much like the bottle of gla.s.s had glittered in the firelight. I could have held three such things in my clenched fist.

Stockwood's expression changed. He began to sweat again.

He was obviously impressed by the Doctor's trick. I wasn't. I'd seen him do it many times before.

Stockwood sat up a little straighter. I could see the effort it cost him: not the movement, the trust. The Doctor was like that. He made you want to get up and take action. The trouble was that most people acted without thinking - something my father had demonstrated in the manner of his death.

Stockwood took the shiny object from the Doctor and stared at it in amazement. 'Do you have any idea what this is worth?'

'Name your price. There's only one like it on the planet - and you're holding it.'

Stockwood blinked 'I certainly am.' Stockwood stood abruptly. I watched him carefully as he went to each of the three large French windows which looked out on to the grounds.

'What you have given him is precious?' I asked the Doctor. To Stockwood I added, 'You are frightened in case someone tries to steal it?'

Stockwood nodded, moved closer to the Doctor. Something about him made me nervous. 'Someone did break in here last night.'