‘From Yzordderrex?’
‘No.’
That’s to the good, at least. But so many strangers, and all on the same night. What are we to make of it?’
‘Are there others?’ said Efreet.
‘Listen …’ Tasko said, casting his gaze over the valley to the darkened slopes beyond. ‘Don’t you hear the machines?’
‘No. Just the wind.’
Tasko’s response was to pick the boy up and physically point him in the direction of the sound.
‘Now listen!’ he said fiercely.
The wind carried a low rumble that might have been distant thunder, but that it was unbroken. Its source was certainly not the village below, nor did it seem likely there were earthworks in the hills. This was the sound of engines, moving through the night.
They’re coming towards the valley.’
Efreet made a whoop of pleasure, which was cut short by Tasko slapping his hand over the boy’s mouth.
‘Why so happy, child?’ he said. ‘Have you never learned fear? No, I don’t suppose you have. Well, learn it now.’ He held Efreet so tightly the boy struggled to be free. Those machines are from Yzordderrex. From the Autarch. Do you understand?’
Growling his displeasure he let go, and Efreet backed away from him, at least as nervous of Tasko now as of the distant machines. The man hawked up a wad of phlegm, and spat it in the direction of the sound.
‘Maybe they’ll pass us by,’ he said. There are other valleys they could choose. They may not come through ours.’ He spat again. ‘Ach, well, there’s no purpose in staying up here. If they come, they come.’ He turned to Efreet. ‘I’m sorry if I was rough, boy,’ he said. ‘But I’ve heard these machines before. They’re the same that killed my people. Take it from me, they’re nothing to whoop about. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ Efreet said, though Pie doubted he did. The pros-pea of a visitation from these thundering things held no horror for him, only exhilaration.
‘So tell me what you want, mystif,’ Tasko said as he started back down the hill. ‘You didn’t climb all the way up here to watch the stars. Or maybe you did. Are you in love?’
Efreet tittered in the darkness behind them. ‘If I were I wouldn’t talk about it,’ Pie replied.
‘So what, then?’
‘I came here with a friend, from … some considerable distance, and our vehicle’s nearly defunct. We need to trade it in for animals.’
‘Where are you heading?’
‘Up into the mountains.’
‘Are you prepared for that journey?’
‘No. But it has to be taken.’
‘The faster you’re out of the valley the safer we’ll be, I think. Strangers attract strangers.’
‘Will you help us?’
‘Here’s my offer,’ Tasko said. ‘If you leave Beatrix now, I’ll see they give you supplies and two doeki. But you must be quick, mystif.’
‘I understand.’
‘If you go now, maybe the machines will pass us by.’
4
Without anyone to lead him, Gentle had soon lost his way on the dark hill. But rather than turning round and heading back to await Pie in Beatrix, he continued to climb, drawn by the promise of a view from the heights, and a wind to clear his head. Both took his breath away. The wind with its chill, the panorama with its sweep. Ahead, range upon range receded into mist and distance, the furthest heights so vast he doubted the Fifth Dominion could boast their equal. Behind him, just visible between the softer silhouettes of the foothills, the forests which they’d driven through.
Once again, he wished he had a map of the territory, so that he could begin to grasp the scale of the journey they were undertaking. He tried to lay the landscape out on a page in his mind, like a sketch for a painting with this vista of mountains, hills and plain as the subject. But the fact of the scene before him overwhelmed his attempt to make symbols of it; to reduce it, and set it down. He let the problem go, and turned his eyes back towards the Jokalaylau. Before his gaze reached its destination, it came to rest on the hill slopes directly across from him. He was suddenly aware of the valley’s symmetry, hills rising to the same height, left and right. He studied the slopes opposite. It was a nonsensical quest, seeking a sign of life at such a distance, but the more he squinted at the hill’s face the more certain he became that it was a dark mirror, and that somebody as yet unseen was studying the shadows in which he stood, looking for some sign of him as he in his turn searched for them. The notion intrigued him at first, but then it began to make him afraid. The chill in his skin worked its way into his innards. He began to shiver inside, afraid to move for fear that this other, whoever or whatever it was, would see him, and in the seeing, bring calamity. He remained motionless for a long time, the wind coming in frigid gusts, and bringing with it sounds he hadn’t heard until now. The rumble of machinery; the complaint of unfed animals; sobbing. The sounds and the seeker on the mirror hill belonged together, he knew. This other had not come alone. It had engines, and beasts. It brought tears.
As the cold reached his marrow, he heard Pie’oh’pah calling his name, way down the hill. He prayed the wind wouldn’t veer, and carry the call, and thus his whereabouts, in the direction of the watcher. Pie continued to call for him, the voice getting nearer as the mystif climbed through the darkness. He endured five terrible minutes of this, his system racked by contrary desires: part of him desperately wanting Pie here with him, embracing him, telling him that the fear upon him was ridiculous; the other part in terror that Pie would find him and thus reveal his whereabouts to the creature on the other hill. At last, the mystif gave up on its search, and retraced its steps down into the secure streets of Beatrix.
Gentle didn’t break cover, however. He waited another quarter of an hour until his aching eyes discovered a motion on the opposite slope. The watcher was giving up his post, it seemed, moving around the back of the hill. Gentle caught a glimpse of his silhouette as he disappeared over the brow, just enough to confirm that the other had indeed been human, at least in shape if not in spirit. He waited another minute, then started down the slope. His extremities were numb, his teeth chattering, his torso rigid with cold, but he went quickly, falling and descending several yards on his buttocks, much to the startlement of dozing doeki. Pie was below, waiting at the door of Mother Splendid’s house. Two saddled and bridled beasts stood in the street, one being fed a palmful of fodder by Efreet.
‘Where did you go?’ Pie wanted to know. ‘I came looking for you.’
‘Later,’ Gentle said. ‘I have to get warm.’
‘No time,’ Pie replied. The deal is we get the doeki, food and coats if we go immediately.’
They’re very eager to get rid of us suddenly.’
‘Yes we are,’ said a voice from beneath the trees opposite the house. A black man with pale, mesmeric eyes stepped into view.
‘You’re Zacharias?’
‘I am.’
‘I’m Coaxial Tasko, called the Wretched. The doeki are yours. I’ve given the mystif some supplies to set you on your way, but please … tell nobody you’ve been here.’
‘He thinks we’re bad luck,’ Pie said.
‘He could be right,’ said Gentle. ‘Am I allowed to shake your hand, Mr Tasko, or is that bad luck too?’
‘You may shake my hand,’ the man said.
Thank