I closed my eyes, stepped forward.
Then I realised I was standing on a narrow band of rock over a chasm with my eyes closed, and hurriedly opened them again.
The wind wasn't as bad as I'd expected. Its constant push and tug was more unnerving than dangerous. The harder part was knowing where to look. At first, I focused on Saltlick. That meant I couldn't see where I was putting my feet. I looked down instead, saw how vast the difference between background and foreground was, and felt my legs turn to mush. I dropped to hands and knees, and panted icy air into my lungs.
The fear that an enthusiastic gust would tear me free soon overcame my giddiness. I fixed my gaze once more on Saltlick, who stood waiting now on the far side. I began moving again, this time letting my eyes drift slightly to keep myself on track. My pace would have shamed a baby, and only made the ordeal seem to go on forever. I dared a proper step. When I didn't tumble straight over the edge, I took another.
It was faster going after that. Still, by the time I rushed onto solid ground, Saltlick was staring at me as though I were insane. He'd lived all his life up here, no wonder he didn't grasp the concept of vertigo.
That thought brought another close behind it. 'Are we there?'
Saltlick pointed. The opening at this side was wider, and its slight slant meant that only there, on the cusp of the bridge, could I see the gateway at its end. Where the walls ran almost sheer, a palisade of logs filled the gap. The fact that Saltlick seemed surprised by its presence suggested it was a new addition. Security had obviously gone up in priority since Moaradrid's visit.
I looked back and saw Estrada crossing the span. If she was even slightly nervous, she hid it well. She practically skipped across, and finished with a bow as she stepped onto solid ground. Ignoring my scowl, she pointed to the palisade and said, 'Should we knock?'
In answer, Saltlick paced into the passage. Half way to the barricade, he cupped his hands around his mouth, and hollered. It sounded like a single word, but I couldn't quite make it out over the cascade of stones and loose dirt he'd shaken free.
'Keep it down, Saltlick!'
He ignored me, and howled again. The second time was even louder and just as incomprehensible. I cradled my head, expecting half the cliff to come tumbling down. Saltlick filled his lungs for another effort. Just in time, a voice called from beyond the palisade: two muffled syllables that sounded something like his name.
The logs swung back and up with a creak of straining timber. Two giants stood beyond, one struggling to knot a length of rope around a post driven into the ground. These two looked subtly different from Saltlick. They were smaller, their features weren't quite so coarse, and though their bodies were equally lumpy, they swelled in noticeably different places.
'Ohhh,' I mumbled, as my brain struggled to fit the incompatible concepts of 'giants' and 'women' together.
'Shol Tchik!'
The giantess who wasn't busy keeping the gate open flung her broad arms around Saltlick, who looked both overjoyed and abashed. Releasing him, she rattled off a long sentence in incomprehensible giantish, clasped his hand in hers, and dragged him inside.
Estrada and I followed at a distance. Having just about come to terms with the shock of female giants, I could finally turn my attention to our surroundings.
One glance and my jaw fell open. Whatever I'd been expecting, this wasn't it.
As far as I could see, we were at one end of a bowlshaped plateau, ringed on every side by low escarpments to form an immense natural arena. The ground sloped steadily down ahead, before rising to greater heights of mountainside at its distant far end.
None of that was so surprising. But the thick border of grass to either side, the line of trees that swayed ahead? Here the breeze, crisp to the point of chilliness just instants before, felt comfortably warm on my skin, and moist, almost clammy.
The dirt road we were following — which was more of a path by giant standards — descended from the gate, down a short embankment to meet the tree line. To either side I could see that planks had been laid, covering narrow crevices and punctures in the ground. The grass beside was wilted and brown and the air danced with heat-haze. I thought of the medicinal baths near my hometown of Conta Pelia, which drew from a spring heated deep beneath the ground and ran warm through even the harshest winters. Was there something similar beneath this plateau?
We passed through the edge of the woodland. The trees were vastly tall, bare-trunked for most of their height and then exploding into great canopies of fo liage at their peaks. They were widely spaced for the most part, spread like columns in a grand hall. Looking around to see if we were close to the giant settlement, I made another strange discovery: between many of the trees, huge banners of coarse fabric had been stretched from bole to bole. It reminded me a little of the streamers of drying cloth that dyers sometimes hung across the alleys of Muena Palaiya. Although they were all decorated to some degree, with swirls of symbols in various shades, I didn't think they were purely for show. Occasionally I saw one suspended lower than my head height, but most were so lofty that Saltlick could have easily stepped beneath them.
As we made our way deeper into the forest, Estrada and I hurrying to keep pace with Saltlick and our guide, I noticed more details. I saw how the banners would frequently meet to form a corner, or even a triangle or square, and how some of these shapes were topped with canopies of the same fabric hung taut between the trees. I realised that where crops were being grown — stands of green cane, a grain that looked like wheat but grew far taller, bushes laden with heavy purple and yellow fruits each as big as my head — the banners separated one from the other.
Then it hit me. They were rooms — giant-sized rooms. As soon as I realised it, the whole scene seemed to flip end on end. Gone were trees and banners and sheets, and in their place a giant-scaled town, with walled fields and gardens, highways, vast public areas and enclosed chambers that would offer privacy from anyone of giant rather than man height.
All the while I'd been waiting to glimpse the giant settlement we'd been wandering through its outskirts.
In the time it had taken me to make sense of our surroundings, a half-dozen more giants had fallen in around us, the news of our arrival having rapidly spread in a receding wave of bellows. Though they all seemed friendly, and overjoyed to see Saltlick, it was intimidating to have so many colossal bodies moving so close together, and Estrada and I hung well back. For that reason, I only realised we'd reached our destination when the wall of stocky legs ahead stopped moving and I nearly bashed my head on a giantess's thigh.
Now I understood the purpose of the tree-banners, I could see that we were in the equivalent of a large circular chamber, with avenues leading off like spokes in a wheel. The space was heaving with giant bodies, perhaps as many as a hundred, all gabbling excitedly together. Though I still wasn't entirely sure about giant anatomy, I thought that most of them were female. The few males were barely taller than I was, and I assumed they must be children. It struck me that Moaradrid had only taken adult males for his army. It was conceivably a sign of mercy, but just as likely forward planning for future campaigns.
The banners there were particularly intricate and brightly coloured, and my first thought was that we'd come to the giant equivalent of a town square. Then, through the throng, I noticed the spike of rock thrust through the turf at its centre, its highest point reach ing a little above my head. Near the peak was a smooth, cupped indent, just wide enough that I could have sat up there if I could have climbed it.
Unsurprisingly, however, the giants had chosen not to use the rock as a highchair for passing midgets. Rather, it held a plain wooden rod, almost as long as Saltlick was tall. At one end I could see a simple metal clasp, its prongs wrenched back as if something had been torn from it. I remembered what Estrada had told me that night before we'd reached Altapasaeda. This must be the chief's staff of office, which had housed the giant-stone until Moaradrid's catastrophic arrival.
I was about to point it out to Estrada when the great horde parted, and one particular giantess came hurrying towards us out of the press. She was skinnier than most, her skin puckered and lined, and though she was clearly rushing she was making slow progress. She muttered under her breath all the while, and when she came close enough she hurled herself onto Saltlick, ringed her arms around his chest, and sobbed, 'Shol Tchik! Shol Tchik!'
It could only be his mother. I realised belatedly that those words the giantesses kept saying must be
