There was no place laid for Rachaela but a woman in a dark frock—her eyes were blind and bloomed-over and her hair was in a bun low on her neck, yet she was not Cheta, she must be Maria—was rectifying this, laying a place at the head of the table.

Rachaela sat down.

The tribe watched her take a slice of the pie and some tomatoes, lettuce.

No one spoke.

Then one of the old women, it was Miranda, said quaveringly, ‘We mustn’t stare.’

And reluctantly they ceased staring, returning to their plates, eating with the quick snapping agility of Anna and Stephan.

Rachaela did not try to make conversation. All this was a grim farce. She did not think that she could say anything that would remotely engage them, and yet they would stare at her again, twenty black eyes.

Anna and Stephan must be their leaders. Anna and Stephan were coherent, or almost, had not abandoned all pretence at normal social interaction. These were wild things dwelling in a stained-glass forest. They came to the pool to drink, ate berries and rabbit sitting upright, stared, considered, ran away or pursued. Was it one of these who had followed her?

She could think of no questions to put to any of them. In any case, would they be equipped to answer a question? Why am I so important to you? A feared treasure, food for your thought? They would tell her, if they told her anything, that she was supposed to be here. She was a part of them. Here was her destiny.

But actually she imagined them grubbing about her inquiry, pawing it, letting it lie.

They were so old no forms had consequence.

And Rachaela had never much bothered with the form of things, either.

She was not very hungry after all. The nursery of old ones pecked and gobbled, leaving their plates quite clean. They passed fruit between them. Their teeth, she had noticed, though discoloured, were still serviceable.

She listened to the noises of gnawing and sipping, the split of rinds and slicing of peels, spatter of pips.

They did not talk to each other even.

Even the old men at the chessboard had been quite silent.

The window, freed of its drapes, depicted a dragon fighting with a unicorn, but from the loudness of the sea, Rachaela guessed the window should have looked down towards the ocean.

Michael and Cheta came in with two teapots, and a plethora of fine china cups were set out.

Rachaela did not stay for the tea, and as she left the room, the forest creatures looked up and stared her away.

During what she supposed must be the afternoon, Rachaela found a chamber on the upper storey which contained a piano and an unstrung harp.