HIS WHOLE BEING is restrained by something, hanging above a vast abyss, crushed beneath an uncompromising sky, harried all around by dangers he cannot see, feel or smell but which he senses with every nerve ending, every fiber of his dying body. He is no longer awake, yet he is aware of death more than he ever has been before. Am I really seeing this from Nomi? he thinks, and he tries to open his eyes. All he can see is a blur. It could be blinding light or crushing darkness, he cannot tell. He is not falling, but he knows that he is no longer in Noreela . . . and suddenly he feels a breeze on his skin and other things there, touching and probing. Still his vision is a blank, but he begins to smell, something animal and raw, and he can hear a clicking noise that sounds so much like communication.

He will never get used to living Nomi's nightmares. But whereas before they had given him some measure of sick satisfaction, now he is as terrified as she.

FOR A WHILE, after seeing them kill Noon and throw Beko and Rhiana from the edge of the cliff, Nomi went away. It was easy to do. She was exhausted from the climb, both physically and mentally, and closing her eyes seemed to give that exhaustion free rein to work over her body and through her thoughts. Her muscles relaxed, burning but no longer cramping with resentment at what she had put them through. Her hands were cool, fingertips boiling points of pain at the ends of sore digits. The wound on her leg where the thing had dug in its fingers was agony. Her bladder relaxed and she pissed, but as the warmth turned to cold in the strengthening breeze, she did not care.

She tried to project herself out and down, away from the awful place they had climbed into and back to the Noreela she was only just staring to know. But attempting that was no escape, because way below were broken bodies, one of whom she had perhaps loved. So she went inward instead of without, and deep inside there were many matters to settle. She briefly met Timal, but that innocent, beautiful young man was no part of what her life had become. He did not have the eyes to face reality, and Nomi could find nothing to say to him. He faded and Ramus was there, holding his head and accusing Nomi with his glare. I'm sorry, she said, but even the horrible illness she had passed on to him seemed irrelevant. The scheme of things, she thought, and the Ramus she dreamed of lowered his hand, smiled and nodded, understanding that there was far too much between them to let momentary weaknesses drive them apart.