But first, you and I must come to an agreement. There is no way you and your kind could exist without a certain sort of human being. A person who will be in your debt, who will worship your face, who will do anything that you command. And you have no such beings. You do not, and you cannot." "You are right," she said. "I cannot." "And that is not my point. You can, but you do not, will not. My point is this: What will you do? Will you use me to destroy your enemy? Will you kill him? Will you make war upon him? What?" "I know what I will do, what I must do," she said. "But I do not know how." "You must try. You have tried once before." "I do not understand," she said. "What if you tried again?" She looked at him, her face bright with interest. "The child?" she said. "Will it know?" "It will know all that is necessary." She nodded, and the small gesture was a perfect understanding of what had passed between them. "What if," he said, "this time, you did not fail? What if this time the child was real? What if he lived, and was a child of the woman, and you made him that? Would you, then, know what you were about?" She considered it, her eyes wide. "I would know what I was about," she said, "and I would still not be able to do it. I could not think it. It would be like...like a dream. But you..." Her eyes shifted away. "A dream may know its dream. But it cannot know what its dream knows. But you..." "What if you could?" She looked down, at the floor, and shook her head. "Go now," he said. "Tell the woman the children are born. Tell her how it is done, and make ready to do it again." She went away, and she did not look back. ## Four The next time she saw him was nearly two years later. She had come a third time to the mountains. She had come to see what they could see, to make it so that she would never be alone. She had come to the peak. He had guided her here. She was at the summit of the mountain now, and looking down at the people who lived below. He had not been wrong. They did not want her here. She was afraid, even though she did not understand why. She had come, perhaps, to discover what it would be like to be afraid. She had chosen to come up here because he had told her she would need to. Because he had told her there was danger in that direction, in this very place. The woman—his enemy—was somewhere else on the mountain, and she was about to come into this area. The man who led her had promised her he would not let her past, but he did not say how he would make sure of it. They had gone into this area with her. There had been three of them, but one had stayed behind. The one who stayed had been there for her, but he had said only, "You will see." And then he had waited, and not said another word. He had stayed there because she had, somehow, expected him to be there, and because it was the only way he could have made sure. But he had not. She had to find him. Now, here, she looked out over the world, and he saw the way her eyes searched it, looking for the enemy. And he saw her face as she found him. She had seen him, and it had seemed as though her whole world would shatter. She had turned from him. She had run down the slope, scrambling through brush and bushes. He could still see her in the distance. She was moving with a strange kind of swiftness, which he had seen in some other, before. And she had not gone far. She had gone far enough to become lost, but not far enough to be where the danger she had feared was about to come. It was a very thin, narrow place. It was a path through the brush that became a narrow track through the rock, and then vanished. The man who had been leading her turned back. He waited there. It would be all right. She would be all right. The man who had been leading her turned back to her, and he spoke to her, and she looked at him, and she followed. She could not see him. She had to follow a winding path, and she could not tell how far away he was. It was more like a dream than she had ever known it to be before. It was a place where everything seemed to be in slow motion, and yet everything was moving quickly, too. She had to turn back. She had to stop. She had to look back. She had to tell them where she was, and wait there. The man had said she would not be safe here. She was almost back in the canyon now. He would come to her. She started running again. She was terrified, but she ran. He would come. She could not stop now. He would come. He would be waiting. He was not there. She was frightened. The man who had led her seemed like a dream, too. She was cold. She was shaking, and she could not tell where she was. It was dark, too. She must stop, she knew, but she could not stop. And then the man was there, and he was holding her hand. "Where did you come from?" he said. She had not heard him come. She did not know he had come. He had come up behind her. She did not turn. She was trembling, and she did not know how to stop it. She was frightened, and she was cold. She was tired. He took her hand. "Come with me," he said. "And then we will leave this place. You and I." She looked at him. "You are afraid," he said. "Come with me." The ground beneath her was very cold. The man seemed to be leading her, even as she walked with him. He seemed to know the way. He was her guide. He was her light. She did not understand it. She did not see where he was taking her. They were walking now, and the man was still beside her, her hand in his. They were going down the mountain. They were moving away from the place that she could see from here, where the child and the woman were. The people there were watching them. She knew it. She could feel their eyes on her. He was holding her, even as she walked. He was holding her hand. They were walking away from the place where he had come to her, and where she had almost been lost. They were going away from the place that the woman would come. He was still with her. She felt safe. "Hurry," he said. They were leaving. She was going away from there. She could feel the eyes of the people watching her. They were looking at her. She could feel them watching her. She had been afraid that they would be watching her when she went into the mountain, but he had said they would be. The man who had led her was her guide. He led her down into the place where she could see the people who were watching them, and he made her hurry. "Where are we going?" she said. "Back to the city," he said. She did not know what to think. They came out onto the path that led down the mountain. They were going away from the place where the man had found her. And then he stopped. He was still with her, even as she looked back. He had stopped, and he was looking back up at the place. She looked, too, and she saw the man who had led her. He stood there, a distance back, and there were people behind him. He had come back for her. He had gone back to make sure. He was waiting for her, even as she looked back. "Where are we?" she said. "We are going back to the city," he said. "Come." He took her hand and began to walk with her again. They went, and she did not look back. "When can I see him again?" she said. "Soon," he said. "What if I die?" "You will not die. Come." They went. They were going to the city. They were going to their home. They were going back. The people were still behind them. They were still watching her. They were still watching her as they turned to go, and as they left the place where the man had come to her. They walked as if in a dream. It was too dark to see. But the people who had come with her were there, and they were still watching. They were coming back. # **Book Two** # **A Time to Go** ## I ## _The City_ The girl watched her, wondering why she was so beautiful. She had come into the mountain, as the man had told her she must, and she had been afraid. It was very cold, and it was dark. The man who had brought her to the place where she could look into the sky had told her to wait. He had promised he would be back soon, and then he had not come. And then he had been there, and he had led her down, and he had told her to hurry. She had seen the others. They were watching her. She could feel it. And then they had gone. She was almost back to the city. She looked at the man as she walked with him. "Who are you?" she said. "The child," he said. "Are you here for me?" she asked. "For what I know?" "Yes," he said. "Then I know," she said. "But who are you? How did you come here?" He looked at her, and he said nothing. "If you are here for me, then why?" He did not answer. He said nothing, and then she turned and looked at him again. "What did you tell me?" she said. "I told you to wait," he said. "Why?" "Because you will see." They were almost there. She could feel it. She turned and looked at him. "See what?" she asked. "What you will see." "And what will I see?" "I do not know." "How can you know?" "I do not know. But you will see." She turned and looked at him. She took a step forward. "If I see him, then he will come back," she said. The man did not answer. He looked at her as they walked. She was watching his face. She was waiting for him to tell her. "What if I do not see him?" she asked. He did not answer. She took another step, and he kept walking beside her. She kept looking at his face. "He will come back," she said. "He will come back to me, for what I know." "I will wait," the man said. They were almost there. She looked down the path. She could see it now. It went down, deeper and deeper, into the canyon. The man led her into the canyon, and there were the others. They were in front of her, coming up. She could feel them, as they stepped into the path, and she could smell them. "What if I don't see him?" she said. "What if he does not come back? Will you do something to him? Will you hurt him? Will you hurt him if I don't see him?" The man did not answer her. He continued to walk. "I am frightened," she said. "Please, tell me. I don't want to be like the others." He did not answer her. She walked slowly, and she was looking at his face. "Tell me," she said. "Please tell me." "Nothing," he said. "What did you tell me?" "You will see." She looked at him. "How can you know that?" she said. He was silent. "Tell me," she said. "I want to know." "You will see." She looked at him. "What am I supposed to see?" she asked. "I do not know." "You said that if I see him he would come back to me. Is that true?" The man looked at her. "Yes," he said. "Then what do you mean? Why do you say that?" He looked at her. "Because it is the truth," he said. They had come. She could feel it. She could hear them. She could feel their eyes on her. "What is it?" she said. "Please, tell me." He was quiet for a time. "The sky," he said. She was afraid. She walked on. She walked past the people. She could not see them. She felt their eyes on her, but she walked past them, into the city, where the man she had never seen before was waiting for her. "Where are we?" she asked. "Are we there?" The man smiled. "I will tell you later," he said. "We have some time now." She was watching him. "I am afraid," she said. "Do not be afraid," he said. They had come into the city, down along the path. There were the city lights. They were there, bright and cold. There was the moon, too. It was not a full moon, but it was bright. She could see the man in front of her. He was there, and there were people beside him. The path was crowded, and there were voices all around her. She did not move forward. "I am afraid," she said. "There is nothing to be afraid of," he said. "I am afraid," she said. "I will protect you," he said. "Do not be afraid." She watched him. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I am waiting," he said. She was looking at him. "You are waiting," she said. "I will tell you what I am waiting for," he said. She was still looking at him. "Do not be afraid," he said. "When will he come?" she said. He was silent. "When will he come?" she said. He was silent. "Please tell me," she said. He was silent. She turned and looked at him. "Will you do something to him? Will you kill him?" "I have killed before," he said. "You have?" she said. "You have killed before?" "Yes," he said. "Who?" she said. "The one who was coming." She turned and looked at him. "The one who was coming?" "Yes." "The one who was coming?" "Yes." "You killed the one who was coming? The one who was coming to do what to me?" "Yes." "Why?" she said. "Why?" He said nothing. She turned and looked at him. "Will he come?" she asked. "He has come already," the man said. "You mean the one who was coming?" "Yes." "What has he done?" she asked. "He has come already," the man said. She watched him. She did not understand. "What do you mean?" she said. "What has he done?" "He has come," the man said. "Yes," she said. "He is here, in the city." "No," the man said. "What is it?" "You will see." "When will he come?" she asked. "Soon," the man said. "I am afraid," she said. "We will not be here for long," the man said. "You will see." They were there now. She could hear them talking. She could hear the voices. She felt them looking at her, but she did not move. She was looking at the man. "Will he come?" she said. "He will come." "When?" "Soon," the man said. She stood there. She stood there, and she did not know what to think. She was not certain. She was not certain. She was not certain. There was the city, and the man. She stood there, and she did not know what to think. She did not understand. "I'm afraid," she said. "I want to go." The man was silent. She looked at him, and she did not know what to say. She did not know what to do. She was afraid. She was afraid