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Back Beyond the Burn Line Save as PDF
Chapters (66)
  1. Copyright
  2. Contents
  3. Epigraph
  4. Part One
  5. 1.
  6. 2.
  7. 3.
  8. 4.
  9. 5.
  10. 6.
  11. 7.
  12. 8.
  13. 9.
  14. 10.
  15. 11.
  16. 12.
  17. 13.
  18. 14.
  19. 15.
  20. 16.
  21. 17.
  22. 18.
  23. 19.
  24. 20.
  25. 21.
  26. 22.
  27. 23.
  28. 24.
  29. 25.
  30. 26.
  31. 27.
  32. 28.
  33. 29.
  34. 30.
  35. 31.
  36. 32.
  37. Part Two
  38. 1.
  39. 2.
  40. 3.
  41. 4.
  42. 5.
  43. 6.
  44. 7.
  45. 8.
  46. 9.
  47. 10.
  48. 11.
  49. 12.
  50. 13.
  51. 14.
  52. 15.
  53. 16.
  54. 17.
  55. 18.
  56. 19.
  57. 20.
  58. 21.
  59. 22.
  60. 23.
  61. 24.
  62. 25.
  63. 26.
  64. 27.
  65. 28.
  66. By Paul McAuley:

‘Yes, exactly so. A map of the east coast of what is now the Union, with the major cities of the bears marked on it. If it was an original, it would be worth something, but as it’s a copy of a copy … They are quite common. And this one is not in the best condition.’

Noble Seatree bent towards the map. It occurred to Pilgrim that he was near-sighted, but too vain to wear corrective lenses. A clear drop of mucus hung from one of his nostrils, lengthening, stretching, falling onto the map.

‘Stinks,’ Noble Seatree said.

‘Yes, it does. I’d be careful breathing too closely to it,’ Pilgrim said. ‘It’s goatskin, and water-damaged goatskin can grow some very nasty moulds. You wouldn’t want to get an infection.’

The constable reared back a little. Studied the map for a few moments, then pushed it away and picked up the book he had selected and shoved it into the pocket of his fur coat. ‘Next time I stop by I want to see you working downstairs,’ he said.

‘There is still a great deal of unfinished work here.’

‘So get it done, and move on. See if you can’t find something worth my while down there. Is Big Lad about?’

‘I believe so.’

Pilgrim’s hands were trembling; he shoved them between his thighs.

‘He better have something for me in his larder. This little book doesn’t begin to satisfy what you owe.’

16.

A few nights after Noble Seatree’s visit, Gentle roused Pilgrim from his nest of blankets and furs and led him to a narrow window. The shadows of the other towers reared against the luminous green streamers of an aurora, but that was not why Gentle had dragged Pilgrim from his sleep. In the courtyard directly below the window, something was picking its way across snow that faintly reflected the auroral light.

At first, Pilgrim thought it was one of Grace Wren Saltmire’s charges, driven by deep-graven habit or phantasm of memory to quit their cell in search of something long lost. But then the flickering glow of the aurora brightened for a moment, and he saw that the intruder was barrel-chested and very tall, and dressed in a deer skin tied around its neck and a kind of stiff skirt of pine boughs.

It was not a person. It was a bear.