I’ve had enough of all this.
But late afternoon I hadn’t done anything, hadn’t seen anyone even. I found some lunch on a table, though I had to share it with six cats, some humming-birds and a bee, oh and a black-faced monkey that joined us halfway through. Food seems to get left out, here and there, I suppose by Jotto, who seems to do the cooking(?) Sometimes silver covers protect it, or else various animals knock them off.
All the lunching animals were quite unaggressive. In these gardens, they seem used to people or dolls. The cats ignored the humming-birds and bee in preference for the custard tart. (They don’t seem to eat meat. No one does here. Maybe the cats have forgotten that birds are prey. But I’m not complaining.)
Later I found a wilder part of the gardens, and climbed up and down through flowering thickets, and came up on a ridge. I’ve found places like this before, here, but not one so high. From it I could see, not just for miles, but over half the world, it looked like.
This side of the palace, the Rise mostly falls down and down through cascades of trees, until the jungle-forest wholly reclaims it. Then the jungle pours away and away, green turning to turquoise, and so to blue where it finally melts into the sky.
Wonderful views, these, but disturbing too. The jungle really seems to have no end, no beginning now, either.
Then a storm started to build over there, in the great upturned bowl of the east.
Weather coming is always curious to watch from the Rise. With a storm, a sort of boiling starts on the horizon, then mountains of cloud block up.
The tops of the clouds, as they came massively and slowly tumbling towards the Rise, caught gold from the westering sun. The lower clouds were slatey-mauve. Lightning twitched inside them. But here the sky was clear.
It seemed to me I’d see all this better from the next ledge over. So I hefted my bag and climbed across through the stones and bushes, being careful not to tread on two sleeping snakes.
When I reached the next ledge, instead of looking at the gathering storm, I looked about and along. There was a wall there, which I hadn’t seen earlier for trees and bushes. It was an old wall, but sturdy, about ten feet high. And there was a gate in it, old warped wood, braced with iron.
I thought, as the thunder-light stabbed nearer and nearer, I’ve got all my things. I’ve got a peach and some cheese and a cake left over from lunch. I thought, Well, should I try? There’s a gate, there might be another road. And somewhere is the sea. There are other people, villages surely, towns, ships, chances.
Such a lot of time seemed just to have dripped away. Suddenly I was crazy.
When I got to the gate, the distant thunder was starting to sound loud, as if the storm might mean something, wasn’t just fireworks in the sky.
The afternoon went copper.
There was a ring-handle in the door. It will be locked, I thought – or stiff from disuse. I’d find a stone and bash it open.
But the handle turned easily, recently oiled, and the door parted from the wall and there was a pale glimmering path going away and down, between tall trees.
I didn’t pause. I just walked out of the gate, turning only to push it back flush with the wall.
Under the trees it was dark, but the path did seem to glow.
The air felt electric from the storm. Shadows massed against and through everything. Eyeholes of metallic sky winked with lightning.
It came to me, Venn saying in his unbearable way, Stay inside the walls and you’ll be perfectly safe.
Stay in this room, in that room. Stay inside the walls. Stay inside the rules.
The path swerved and as I followed the coil of it, from a stand of eucalyptus, a beast came out.
In books, I’ve read about being turned to stone, or ice. I had been.
There were lions at the House, I’ve said. And I’ve seen other animals. I’ve even seen pictures of tigers, somewhere.
This wasn’t – it was—
Sorry.
What was in front of me was a tiger. That is—
It was big, about twelve feet long, if it had been standing on all four legs. It wasn’t though. Which was because its back legs were much heftier, and the front ones were smaller, and it held those up against its chest. It was tawny, and barred by black stripes – almost like a zebra – the way tigers are. Its underbelly was a creamier colour, and all the fur was short, like well-brushed plush.
The head was more like a dog’s face than a cat’s. But it was a cat’s, and from the mouth these huge canine teeth, white as peeled nuts, stretched out and over the lower jaw. It had little piercing brilliant eyes. They were palest blue.
Tiger’s ears are small and rounded, almost toy-like, I do remember that. These ears were tall. They were tawny and had paler fur inside. They had stripes. But they were the ears – of a gigantic rabbit. It was – a rabbit. A rabbit with a dog-cat’s face and the skin of a tiger, and prehistoric teeth for serious rending.
And it wasn’t funny. You couldn’t laugh at it.
It was terrifying.
Then it growled. The sound went right through me, and I started to shake. Everything else seemed to, too. The leaves were shaking – no, it was a spatter of rain coming down.
That was jolly. It would rain while this rabbit killed and ate me.
You could tell it wasn’t non-meat-eating, like the Rise cats. You could tell.
It dropped its top legs/arms down, and it was on all fours. This pushed its back end upwards, and its head craned up to look at me on a too-long neck.
When it sprang it looked just like a big cat springing, but like a rabbit as well, you know, when they
