open; there was food on the table. But of Wretched Tasko there was no sign. Efreet went out to search around, leaving Pie on the porch. Animals corralled behind the house stamped and muttered in the darkness; there was a palpable unease. Efreet came back moments later, and said:
‘I see him up the hill! He’s almost at the top.’
‘What’s he doing there?’ Pie asked.
‘Watching the sky maybe. We’ll go up. He won’t mind.’
They continued to climb, their presence now noticed by the figure standing on the hill’s higher reaches. ‘Who is this?’ he called down.
‘It’s only Efreet, Mr Tasko. I’m with a friend.’
‘Your voice is too loud, boy,’ the man returned. ‘Keep it low, will you?’
‘He wants us to keep quiet,’ Efreet whispered.
‘I understand.’
There was a wind blowing on these heights, and its chill put Pie in mind of the fact that neither Gentle or itself had clothes appropriate to the journey that lay ahead of them. Coaxial clearly climbed here regularly; he was wearing a shaggy coat, and a hat with fur ear-warmers. He was very clearly not a local man. It would have taken three of the villagers to equal his mass or strength, and his skin was almost as dark as Pie’s.
‘This is my friend Pie’oh’pah,’ Efreet whispered to him when they were at his side.
‘Mystif,’ Tasko said instantly.
‘Yes.’
‘Ah. So, you’re a stranger?’
‘Yes.’
‘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
