Goblin and I glared at the red cliffs. We saw nothing.

"Too late," One-Eye said. "It's gone. But I reckon somebody should go collect the spy."

I believed One-Eye. "Elmo! Get over here." I explained.

"Beginning to move," he murmured. "Just when I was hoping they'd forgotten us."

"Oh, they haven't," Goblin said. "They most certainly haven't." Again I felt he had something on his mind.

Elmo scanned the ground between us and the bluffs. He knew it well. We all do. One day our lives may depend on our knowing it better than someone hunting us. "Okay," he told himself. "I see it. I'll take four men. After I see the Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant does not come up for alerts. He and two other men camp in the doorway to Darling's quarters. If ever the enemy reaches Darling, it will be over their bodies.

The flying carpet went away westward. I wondered why it had gone unchallenged by the creatures of the Plain. I went to the menhir that had spoken to me earlier. I asked. Instead of answering, it said, "It begins, Croaker. Mark this day."

"Yeah. Right." And I do call that day the beginning, though parts of it started years before. That was the day of the first letter, the day of the Taken, and the day of Tracker and Toadkiller Dog.

The menhir had a final remark. "There are strangers on the Plain." It would not defend the various flyers for not resisting the Taken.

Elmo returned. I said, "The menhir says we might have more visitors."

Elmo raised an eyebrow. "You and Silent have the next two watches?"

"Yep."

"Be careful. Goblin. One-Eye. Come here." They put their heads together. Then Elmo picked four youngsters and went hunting.

Chapter Six:
THE PLAIN OF FEAR

I went up top for my watch. There was no sign of Elmo and his men. The sun was low. The menhir was gone. There was no sound but the voice of the wind.

Silent sat in shadow inside a reef of thousand-coral, dappled by sunlight come through twisted branches. Coral makes good cover. Few of the Plain's denizens dare its poisons. The watch is always in more danger from native exotica than from our enemies.

I twisted and ducked between deadly spines, joined Silent. He is a long, lean, aging man. His dark eyes seemed focused on dreams that had died. I deposited my weapons. "Anything?"

He shook his head, a single miniscule negative. I arranged the pads I had brought. The coral twisted around us, branches and fans climbing twenty feet high. We could see little but the creek crossing and a few dead menhirs, and the walking trees on the far slope. One tree stood beside the brook, taproot in the water. As though sensing my attention, it began a slow retreat.

The visible Plain is barren. The usual desert life-lichens and scrub brush, snakes and lizards, scorpions and spiders, wild dogs and ground squirrels-is present but scarce. You encounter it mainly when that is inconvenient. Which sums up Plain life generally. You encounter the real strangeness only when that is most inopportune. The Lieutenant claims a man trying to commit suicide here could spend years without becoming uncomfortable.