"I have to know. I can't put you in the lead if you can't make yourself look down to see how they're doing. See? I'll have to put you where you don't hurt anyone else if you funk it. Tail-end Chancy. And if you freeze, I want to be sure nobody-"

"All right." Alfin dug in his pack, produced a spike and a rock. He pounded the spike in beside the one he was hanging from.

"Make sure you can depend on it. It's your life."

The second spike was in deeper than the first. Alfin tied the loose end of his line to both spikes and knotted it again. "And I leave you next to it?"

"You take that chance too. Or you don't. I have to know."

Aim leapt straight outward, trailing loops of line. He thrashed, then threw his arms over his face.

He fell slowly. We're all lighter, Gavving realized. It's reaL I thought I was just feeling better, but we're lifting less-And Alfin was still falling, but now he'd uncovered his face. His arms windmilled to turn him on his back. Gavving noticed Clave's hand covering the spikes that moored Alfin's line. The line pulled taut and swung Alfin in against the tree.

Gavvmg watched him climb up. And watched him jump again, limbs splayed out as if he were trying to fly. It seemed he might make it, he fell so slowly; but presently the tide was pulling him down against the tree again.

"That actually looks like fun," Jayan said.

Jinny said, "Ask first."

Alfin didn't jump again. When he had climbed back up to Clave's position, and both had climbed to rejoin the team, Jinny spoke. "Can we try that?"

Alfin sent her a look like a harpoon. Clave said, "No, time to get moving. Saddle up-.-"

Alfin was in the lead again when they set out. He made a point of pausing frequently to look back. And Gavving wondered.

Yesterday Alfin had swarmed all over the nose-arm, hacking like a

berserker maniac, like Gavving himself. It was hard to believe that Allin was afraid of Clave, or of heights, or of anything.

The sun circled the sky, behind Voy and back to zenith, before they

came to lee again. The water-smoothed wood was soft here, soft enough

that they could cross with a spike in each hand, jab and yank and jab. They veered down to avoid scores of birds clustered on the wood. Scarlet-tailed, the birds were otherwise the grayish-brown of the wood itself.

When they reached the rivulet, it was smaller yet, but it was enough:

they hung in the water and let it cool them and run into their faces and

mouths. Clave shared out smoked meat. Gavving found himself ravenous.

The Grad watched the birds as he ate. Presently he burst out laughing. "Look, they've got a mating dance going."

"So?"

"You'll see."