They left the scattered ironwood trees behind, and after a while Tealeaf said, ‘See that rock ahead?’
‘It’s not a rock,’ Hari said.
‘You’ve got good eyes. No, it’s a plant.’ She stopped beside it: a gnarled hump as tall as a horse, spreading out like dried mud where it touched the ground. Tiny leaves like rat ears lay on its surface. Tealeaf crouched and scratched a hole near the base.
‘Dig with your knife, Hari. Pearl, use your knife. When you find a root, scrape down a little way. You’ll find a sac at the end.’
Hari dug. He found a root thinner than his finger, followed it through dry sand and uncovered a tough-skinned pouch as big as his fist.
‘Cut the root, hold it shut. The sac is full of water. Now squeeze it into your mouth. You too, Pearl. Have you got one?’
‘It’s sour,’ Pearl said.
‘My people call this the bounty plant.’
‘Sour bounty,’ Pearl said.
Hari liked the taste. It was better water than he was used to.
‘Put some on your feet, Pearl. It’ll help your blisters,’ Tealeaf said.
They collected half a dozen sacs each, and sealed them by tying the roots.
‘That’s enough. Any more and the plant will die.’
They went on, walking more easily. The mountains shone with pale light. Fingers of scrubby bush reached out from the jumbled hills at their base. Hari understood how lucky he was to have met the Dweller woman. She knew the dry lands and probably knew paths through the mountains as well. Without her he might never find a way, just as he would never have found water. As for the other things she knew, he would find them out – find out how to speak and command. Then he would have a better weapon than his knife. And find out where his dreams had come from: who had sent them, what they meant. They had made him grow older in a single day.
The ground rose more steeply and turned stony. Pearl sat down and put her boots on. They shared a sac of water and plodded on towards the mountains.
Sleep, Pearl thought, please let me sleep.
The afternoon sun burned through the spindly leaves, and the ground under her back grew a new hump every time she shifted. She tried scraping a hollow but found only more rocks. She covered her eyes with her kerchief but the light burned through.
Tealeaf slept. Hari slept. They had no trouble. Pearl turned on her side, which brought her almost face to face with the boy. How ugly he was, with his black skin and scarred face and matted hair. One of his hands lay splayed at his side. It was scarred too, probably with bites from the animals he killed or from fighting. Was that the hand that had thrown the knife? She could not believe she was lying only an arm’s length away from the person who had killed her brother. He was like an animal himself, quick and savage; yet he could do what she could, use his mind in ways other people could not – except Tealeaf. She did not want to be like him. If she had to share, she wanted it to be with someone white skinned, and if it was a boy, one who was tall and handsome as well. Yet Tealeaf was not white but the colour of weak tea; and Tealeaf, especially, was not like her – or like Hari either.
So, Pearl wondered, who are we?
She sat up quietly, and the dog raised its head and looked at her.
Who are we, dog?
It rested its chin on the ground and wagged its tail.
Pearl stood up and walked to the edge of the clearing. The scrub was over head-height and she felt enclosed. She saw rocks ahead, rising like chimneys, and thought if she could climb partway up she might see the mountains. Just the sight of snow would cool her and maybe allow her to sleep.
Come on, dog, she said, and the animal, after a nervous look at Hari, followed her.
The rock chimneys rose in front of her. They were less smooth than they had appeared from a distance, and she found handholds in the tallest and climbed above the scrub by a metre or two. There were the mountains, close enough it seemed to touch, their snowfields and ice walls gleaming in the sun. At once she felt cooler and at peace. Another night and they would be in the foothills, and reach the mountains and the snow soon after that. Tongues of bush pushed into the plain, the nearest one across a gully edging the scrub patch where they were camped. Perhaps there was a stream there. She longed for flowing water to wash in.
She climbed higher. She would ask Tealeaf if they could go into the bush and travel there instead of in the scrub, which stabbed her hands and face with its spiny leaves. She looked back the way they had travelled. The city was gone, the sea was gone, and only a brown smudge on the land’s horizon showed where the smoke of the factories poured out. Bowles factories, some of them, Ottmar factories. She had never seen one. Women and girls were not supposed to know about such things.
The rock curved back, making a natural seat. She turned awkwardly and sat down, holding on to protuberances in case she slipped. The dog whined.
‘I’m all right, dog,’ she said. ‘Lie down and rest.’
‘I’m the one who tells him what to do,’ Hari said. He stepped out of the scrub and frowned up at her. ‘If you fall off and break your fat legs, I’m not carrying you.’ He looked for a way to climb, but the only handholds were the ones she had used.
‘Why should I fall?’ she said. But she did not want to quarrel with Hari, she wanted to find out more about him. Some questions she could not ask – had he ever washed in his life? She could smell him from up here. But, how had he got his scars? That should be all right.
Hari, too, was curious about Pearl. He wanted to ask what some of the things tasted like that he had seen her eating at the table in her house – things that steamed, things of every colour – but just remembering them made his hatred boil up again. The dog jumped sideways and cowered.
‘I’m not to blame,’ Pearl said. ‘What made those scars on your face?’
‘The sickness,’ he said.
‘What sickness?’
‘The one that killed my mother.’ At once he was angry he had said that. It was none of her business – and it sounded as if he was asking her to be sorry for him. ‘Half the people in the burrows died. How many died where you were?’
‘I haven’t heard of it,’ Pearl said.
‘Too busy eating,’ he said.
‘No,’ she said. ‘But Tealeaf has told me about the burrows.’
‘How does she know?’
‘Tealeaf knows everything.’
‘Who is she? She’s a Dweller. But what does she want?’
Yes, Pearl thought, what does Tealeaf want? Us, she thought, me and this boy.
‘Why?’ he said, and Pearl realised he had picked up her thought. She went on without speaking:
Because we can do what she does. We can hear what people think, and talk to each other without saying it aloud.
I’m best with animals, he said.
I haven’t seen many animals. But – we can make people do things. And forget things. At least I can, I think. Can you?
‘If you can, I can,’ he said.
‘Tealeaf will teach you. She’ll teach us.’
‘Why?’ he said.
Because, Pearl thought, she wants us to do something. First she wanted me, and she got me. Now she’s got Hari. Two of us.
She hasn’t got me, Hari said. How long have you known her?
Since I was eight. I had to choose a maid – my personal maid – and I chose her. But only because she told me to.
Then she felt guilty, as if she had betrayed Tealeaf.
‘She’s my friend,’ she said.
‘She’s your maid. Wipes your bum, I bet.’
‘She’s taught me everything I know,’ Pearl said angrily.
‘How to paint your face. How to comb your hair.’
‘How to wash, at least. So I don’t stink.’
He hissed angrily, then controlled himself. ‘Lo taught me. I’d sooner have him than a Dweller. He told me how Company came and murdered my people. And starved the rest of us and made us slaves. Do you know all that?’
‘I know – I know that Company is everywhere. And cares for nothing but itself. And makes me a slave too – makes me marry who it wants.’
‘You’re a slave with plenty to eat,’ Hari said. ‘And a maid.’ He turned away. ‘Come on, dog, let’s leave her sitting on her throne.’
‘Wait,’ Pearl said. Then urgently: Wait. Come back.
What? he said.
Something out there, moving, in the hills.
Let me see.
She stood up on the rock seat, peering out, and Hari climbed until his head was level with her knees. She pointed.
Men on horses, she said.
Following dogs. It’s Company.
Tealeaf, Pearl shouted soundlessly.
They climbed down from the rock and ran through the scrub, where they met Tealeaf hurrying towards them.
My father’s men are coming. The dogs have got our scent.
‘How far away?’
‘Half an hour. Maybe less,’ Hari said.
‘There’s a gully,’ Pearl said, pointing. ‘And bush on the other side. We can hide there.’
They ran to their sleeping place and snatched up their packs.
‘Run, Pearl. I’ll follow,’ Tealeaf said.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Go. Fast.’
Pearl and Hari ran.
‘Can you hear her?’ Hari said. ‘She’s leaving fangcat thoughts for the dogs. They’ll pick them up. They’ll run all the way home.’ He laughed, and the dog howled.
‘Shut up, dog. You’re safe.’
They left the scrub and started into the gully, moving fast down the shallow slope. In a few moments Tealeaf overtook them.
‘They’re close. I heard them at the edge of the scrub.’
‘They must want to grab you badly,’ Hari said. ‘Getting here so quick.’
‘Maybe it’s you they want for killing my brother,’ Pearl said.
‘Don’t talk, just run,’ Tealeaf said.
In a moment they heard the shrieking of dogs. A quick command from Tealeaf kept their dog from joining in.
‘Will the horses bolt?’
‘The riders will control them. But they won’t be able to make them follow in the scrub. No more talk. Fast.’
The gully was wider than Pearl had thought. They reached the bottom and began climbing towards the bush. A thin shout came coiling down at them.
‘It’s someone on the rock I climbed,’ Pearl cried.
They saw the man pointing, saw him leap down.
Faster, Tealeaf ordered. As fast as you can.
Their feet slid on loose stones. Behind them men on foot burst from the scrub and ran down the slope. A dozen on horses came round the bottom edge. One stopped to fire shots from his bolt gun, but the distance was too great.
‘Alive,’ someone shouted. ‘I want them alive.’
The horses galloped along the gully bed and their riders began to force them up the slope. Hari turned, but there were too many for him to command – and too many for Tealeaf, he supposed. He ran beside the women, sliding and stumbling like them, but saw that they would reach the bush before the riders overtook them.
Whoever commanded the horsemen saw it too. He called them back and assembled them in the gully.
Tealeaf, Pearl and Hari ran into the trees where the trunks sheltered them. They paused for breath.
‘What are they doing?’ Pearl said.
‘Whoever it is, he’s clever,’ Tealeaf said.
The man in charge was young. Pearl recognised his Ottmar red and green cloak. The lances of his horsemen were adorned with the Ottmar pennant.
‘It’s one of Ottmar’s sons, so it’s me they want,’ Pearl said.
‘Ottmar owns the salt mines,’ Hari said. He drew his knife.
‘Put it away,’ Tealeaf said. ‘We’ll see what he does.’
The men on foot started back round the scrub for their horses. Two bands of horsemen broke away, each five strong. One headed towards the place where the tongue of bush poked from thicker bush. The other rode fast the opposite way, round the tip of the tongue.
‘They’re surrounding us,’ Hari said.
‘What they’ll do,’ Tealeaf said, ‘is burn a barrier with their guns so we can’t get into the hills. Then they’ll hunt us out into the open.’
‘How many are there? I can kill them,’ Hari said.
‘Fifty. A squadron,’ Pearl said.
In a moment they heard bolt guns firing, and soon a column of smoke rose into the sky.
‘They’ve cut us off,’ Tealeaf said calmly. ‘Now they’ll come down through the bush. See, more men are going. But it will be night before they find us.’
‘There’ll be a full moon,’ Pearl said.
‘Yes. We’ll only have darkness for an hour. Well, we’ll see. I must watch this clever young man. He’s not in any hurry.’
‘He’s coming up.’
The man spurred his horse up the slope, but stopped halfway to the bush.
‘Radiant Pearl of the Deep Blue Sea,’ he shouted.
‘Don’t answer,’ Tealeaf said.
‘Can you hear me, Pearl?’
‘It’s the youngest son. I danced with him at the ball,’ Pearl said.
‘Radiant Pearl. My name is Kyle-Ott of Ottmar’s house. My father has sent me to collect his bride. He keeps a place for you in his kitchen.’
The men in the gully jeered and laughed.
‘You’re running with vermin, Pearl. You hide in ditches when you might have sat at his side. You have made your choice. I will carry you back tied across my saddle, the way your brother Hubert was tied. And the Dweller woman. But I will cut the heart out of the burrows rat running with you. As a gift, Pearl, to avenge your brother.’
‘He hides something,’ Tealeaf whispered, ‘but he’s too far away for me to read it.’
Pearl, hidden deep in ferns, stared at the young man’s face – his smiling mouth, his hawk nose, his blue icy eyes. It was Ottmar’s face without its pouches, without its fat. She had once thought Kyle-Ott was handsome.
‘By nightfall, Pearl, I will have you scuttling out of there. Meanwhile, think of your fate.’
He turned his horse and rode back to the gully bed.
‘All right,’ Tealeaf said. ‘Now we move ahead of these men coming through the bush. I don’t want them catching us before the sun goes down.’
They went deeper into the bush, then Tealeaf fell behind and spoke to Hari: They mustn’t catch you. But I think you have skills to hide yourself. Wait until it’s nearly dark, then find a place.
I’ll come back, he said.
I know you will.
They kept moving towards the tip of the bush. The afternoon wore on, the sun dipped in the sky as the cries of the men sweeping the bush came closer.
Now, Hari, Tealeaf said, and he gave a nod.
Stay with them, dog, he said, and slipped away.
He already had his hiding place worked out, a forest of low ferns between tree trunks, and he ran back to it quickly, hearing the calls of the men and the crackle of undergrowth as they approached. He fastened his bag tightly on his back, then lay down and wriggled like a snake into the ferns, turning and twisting, leaving no snapped twig or bent leaf. Tough fronds covered him like a cloak. He stilled his breathing, then drew his knife, just in case.
The men were too far apart to make a close search. They kept their bolt guns glowing for light in the gloom of the bush and shouted to each other, back and forth, driving prey rather than searching. The one who passed the fern patch gave it no glance. His boots crushed stems on its outer edge; he kicked a rotten branch out of his way and went on.
Hari waited until the sounds were gone. Then he rose from the ferns and ran through the bush. There was still no way out. Horsemen would be waiting around the edges and others at the fire that still burned. But he had no thought of escape. He meant to stay close to the Dweller woman and use her to find his father. So he must watch what happened and work out what to do. She seemed unconcerned at being captured, but did not seem to have a plan for getting away.
He sat beside a tree and ate a handful of roasted grubs and drank a sac of water. Then he chose a tall tree and climbed the creepers strangling its trunk. He went up through branches until he could see over the heads of smaller trees. The sun was low. He shaded his eyes. The troop of horsemen waited where the gully met the plain. He could not see the searchers in the bush, but they must be close to the bottom edge – close to forcing Tealeaf and Pearl into the open.
Hari watched, making no plan. First he needed to see where everyone was, then he would know what to do.