“War, perhaps,” Ramus said. He recognized the tall, long-limbed shapes from some of the images of the parchment pages still in his backpack. They made surreal sculptures in death—ragged, sticklike things that threw strange shadows across the grass around their feet. Some of the limbs were missing, sliced or snapped away either before or after their turning from flesh to stone, but the detail in their faces seemed remarkable.

“These are more recent,” Lulah said. “This is something else. Nothing to do with those behind us in the forest.”

“They were human, for a start.” Ramus led the way. He was frightened, but also utterly fascinated. Here they are, he thought, the people of the plateau. A new civilization. It was a pity that they were dead.

Lulah did not want to go close to any of the things, but Ramus paused to examine each statue he passed. They were all tall, lithe and well muscled, their proportions seemingly exaggerated in every way. Longer limbs, larger hands, even their heads were slightly larger than humans', bearing faces that were remarkably familiar. But there was something about their frozen expressions that troubled Ramus, and the more stone bodies he looked at, the worse his confusion became.

It took Lulah to give him the answer. As they came to the first ruined building, she looked down at a stone body sprawled at her feet. “They look like animals,” she said. And Ramus knew that she was right. However humanoid they appeared—however much he had been unconsciously attributing them with humanity—their faces held little to support that. They had all died snarling, expressions twisted into fighting shapes. There was little here that he recognized.

“We should go,” Ramus said. “Look.” He pointed past the ruins, and farther down the valley a cloud hung low in the air, slow graceful swirls the only sign of active air currents. And though it drifted, still it was fed from below.

“What's that?” Lulah asked.

“Perhaps nothing,” Ramus said. “Or perhaps it's what this place was built to protect.”

Lulah led the way. Past the village the land took a sudden dip, a shale slope leading down to a lower portion of the valley floor. The streams feeding through the village rumbled down the slope in two waterfalls, throwing mist and small rainbows into the air. Behind them, a scene of conflict and death. Before them, beauty. Ramus commented upon it, and Lulah nodded and smiled. “You'll often find both together,” she said. “Sometimes I believe the land has to provide balance.”

“Which land? This one, or our own?”

Lulah looked confused. “Surely they're the same? There's a cliff between us, but this place is higher, that's all. It's still Noreela.”

Ramus could think of no reply.