He felt as if he were walking through a great ill-lit room. Dead heather crumbled beneath his feet, gray in the ruddy gloom. Home, above him, was a mirrored roof as bleak as the ground beneath him.

Wind sprawled across the flat landscape. He walked until his legs were numb with fatigue.

When night fell he huddled beneath a shriveled cow-tree and sucked sour milk from its bark nipples. Then he buried himself in a rough bed of leaves, clutching the stone knife to his chest and determining to think of nothing until dawn.

There was a rustle under the wind. A warm breath, not unpleasantly scented--

He snapped awake and scrambled backwards out of his nest. In the starless gloom a huge shape hovered uncertainly.

He held out the knife with both hands. "Who is it?"

The voice was ill-formed, soft, and infinitely reassuring. "It iss me... Orange. I am so-ssorry to wake you..."

Teal let out a deep breath and lowered the knife. He found himself laughing softly, his eyes wet. How absurd.

Orange moved closer to the cow-tree, and Teal snuggled into her warm coat.

After that he slept for most of the night.

In the morning he breakfasted from the food teats clustered over Orange's lower body. There were milk and water nipples, and meat buds that could be snapped off, without discomfort to Orange.

They set off just after dawn, with Teal munching on a still warm bud. Orange wore a saddle-shaped pannier into which Teal loaded his meager possessions.

The morning was chill but comparatively bright, and Home was a shining carpet overhead. Teal felt his spirits lifting a little.

"Orange... why did you follow me?"

"Your gra-grandmother told me where you were going. So I decided to follow."

"Yes, but why?"

"To... help."

He smiled and wrapped a hand in the coarse hair behind her ear. "Well, I'm glad you're here."

That evening Orange used her articulated trunk to gather handfuls of moss. She packed his aching feet with it and then licked it off. "My... saliva has healing pro-properties," she said.

Teal lay back against her fur. "Yes," he said. "Thank you..."

The reddening world folded away, and he slept.

They came to an abandoned City.

Teal walked through arches, into low cylindrical buildings. The walls were as smooth as skin and knife-thin, showing no signs of age. But the interiors were unlit and musty.

They walked on despondently.

"Did grandmother tell you what I'm trying to find?"

"Yess. The... Eight Roomss."

"The trouble is I've no idea how to get there... or even how we'll recognize it when we find it. We're walking at random."

Orange hissed, "From the ss-stories I have heard, you will... know it wh-when you ssee it..."

Teal looked at her carefully. Was there a trace of amusement in that clumsy voice?

"What stories? What are you talking about?"

But the huge round face was blank.