“We both are. We're here. Maybe there's a gas here, giving us waking hallucinations.”

“It's like being swayed,” Lulah said, “but without taking anything to get there.”

Ramus did not feel swayed. He felt more in control of his body and mind than he had since reaching the top of the cliff, but the warm, moisture-laden air he breathed was heavy with something else.

“Perhaps the God is very close,” he whispered. His voice was no louder than the steam, and he was not sure whether Lulah heard.

There were other things here, the remains of some sort of technology. Metallic legs strutted either side of the vents, and rusted arms spanned through the steam, bearing the remnants of other, more intricate things. There was little vegetation, most of it smothered by the steam, and as they walked, their boots crunched on loose, stony soil. Ramus took shallow breaths and exhaled harshly, as if to purge himself of the things circulating at the periphery of his consciousness. This was like that place he and Lulah had come across in the forests of southern Noreela, except that these bad memories were not their own.

“Leave us alone,” he said. But if the Sleeping God was close by, why should it leave them alone? Why, when Ramus sought to find it?

“Another body,” Lulah said. She sounded glad to have something to say. “There, over by that outcropping, standing with one hand against the rock. But . . .”

“But it's not all there,” Ramus said. They approached together. The stone body was deformed, containing hollows and gaps as though only part of the body had turned and the rest had decayed to nothing. He leaned in closer and saw the hint of bone protruding around the thing's chest, gray stone at its base, gradually changing to white at its snapped tip.

“Another,” Lulah said. “And another.”

The bodies here were all partial. Solid stone giving way to something with a more sandy texture, and then stone tendrils and spikes fading altogether. Bone was visible here and there, and on one of the bodies there was still a sheath of leathery skin around the unchanged skull.

“Would those words do this?” Lulah asked.

“I don't know. I know nothing.” Ramus touched one of the bodies and a thread of stone linking one exposed rib to the next crumbled between his fingers.

“Whatever these things are, I hope there are no living ones close by.” Lulah hefted her sword in one hand, a short knife in the other.

The atmosphere here was hot with steam, heavy with moisture and thick with thoughts neither of them could explain. Ramus's breath wheezed with the effort of breathing the saturated air, and every now and then he saw shapes that implied movement, direction and purpose. But when he blinked, the shapes resolved into nothing more than steam wisps. Lulah must have been seeing the same thing because she walked ahead of him, constantly dipping down into a defensive stance when a fresh breath of warm air passed by.