would destroy the anchor baobabs before taking Poppy and the other Ochre back to the Koppie.
Carnelian and Fern helped Morunasa drag the boat upstream. When the Maruli judged they had gone far enough, they pushed the boat back into the water and Morunasa held it while Carnelian climbed in. His weight made the boat pull into the stream. He saw Morunasa's hands loose their grip. Carnelian looked into the man's eyes and, for a moment, believed he was considering letting the boat go, perhaps calculating that, by the time Carnelian should reach the oar, it would be too late to stop the boat flying over the falls. If those were truly Morunasa's thoughts, he dismissed them, clambered aboard, then took hold of the oar.
Free of the bank, the boat swung into the deeper, faster flow. Morunasa hung his weight upon the oar and they carved a bucking course through twisting, leaping water. Carnelian held on desperately as they were rocked violently, all the while watching the frantic weave of the river tearing towards them. Inclining his head to the right, he saw the shore of the island looming. Craning further round, he saw, terrifyingly close, the livid thresh where the river poured into the chasm. Snapping his head round, he fixed his gaze upon Morunasa, whose lower jaw was pulled to one side by the meshing of his sharpened teeth.
With a grinding shudder, the boat impaled the shore's nest of bones. Small hands appeared along the gunwale and Carnelian saw that pygmies were pulling the boat up in among the great black roots of the banyan. Carnelian vaulted out into the shallows and helped the little men pull the boat out of the water. Letting go, he turned to gaze upon the tree. Its trunks lifted their pillars into a high canopy. Tendrils falling from this had been woven into screens of tortuous complexity through which he could just make out the gloomy cavernous spaces beyond.
Morunasa appeared beside him and beckoned him to follow. The Oracle took him along the shore to where the roar of the falls was emanating from floating clouds of vapour. Entering these, they were instantly drenched. It was hard to see. Carnelian could feel the endless detonation of the falls through the rocks upon which he walked. The roar was becoming unbearable when it began to soften and the mist to thin. A brightening vision of the world drew him until he was gazing down into the chasm in whose depths the river ran glinting away into blue distance.
Carnelian became aware Morunasa was standing near him. Looking round, he saw the Maruli open his mouth to speak and so leaned closer.
'From here since ancient times we've ruled the Blackwater almost to the sea.'
Morunasa gazed out as if he beheld it all. His face bore an expression Carnelian recognized.
'You have a Master's heart,' he cried.
Morunasa turned to pierce Carnelian with his eyes. 'My heart is the Darkness-under-the-Trees.' He extended his arm and curled his fingers into a fist. That darkness has taken possession of your friend.'
Carnelian felt the gesture lacked conviction.
Examining Morunasa more acutely, he saw how thin was his arrogance.
'What's happened?' Carnelian demanded.
Morunasa narrowed his eyes. He considered saying something but then his breath exploded. Taaagh!' He flung his hand up as if he were tearing off a mask and his face was revealed twisted with anger and fear.
'Do you dare set eyes upon the Darkness-under-the-Trees?'
'If the Master is there.'
'Oh, he is there.'
Without another word, Morunasa walked towards the grove and was swallowed into its gloom. Cursing under his breath, Carnelian followed him.
As Carnelian crept in under the first branches, they snuffed out the sunlight. His hackles rose as he became aware of the gloom not just as an absence of light but a thing in itself.
'You must give of your blood,' said Morunasa.
Carnelian remembered how the first time Osidian had returned he had a wound on his wrist.
Morunasa pointed back to the light. 'Shall we return?'
Carnelian knew he had no choice. 'Have you a knife?'
Morunasa grinned, then, quick as thought, grabbed Carnelian's arm and sank his teeth into the wrist. Carnelian jerked his arm back. It was too dark to see the wound clearly. Morunasa urged him to sprinkle blood onto the ground and, resentfully, Carnelian did so, then plucked some leaves to staunch the flow.
The Maruli led him through a series of caverns separated by pillars, between which hung webs of infernal design woven from the roots hanging from every branch. High above, the sky was a scattering of stars peeping through a leafy firmament. The glooms reverberated with the thunder of the falls. A sweet, decaying smell clogged Carnelian's nostrils. The ground beneath his feet squelched and sucked with each step. Disgusted, he stooped to peer and saw he was walking on a carpet of rotting red figs. Morunasa had turned to wait for him, his face transformed by an expression of ecstasy. The air around him hazed as if with smoke. As Carnelian walked to meet him, he became aware of another sound which, masked by the rumble of the falls, was almost an itch in his ear. A thousand snagging tears, as if the fabric of space around him was being sliced apart. The air was thick with flies. His steps faltered and at that moment a stench wafted over him. His heart gave way and he almost cried out, except he feared to open his mouth lest he choke on flies. Close to retching, he became aware of Morunasa looming close, grinning his ravener teeth, his eyes glowing.
The God can taste your fear, he drinks it like a draught of still-warm blood.'
Carnelian glanced round and saw against the loopholes of distant daylight how dense was the swirling of the flies.
'You wish to return,' sneered Morunasa.
Carnelian shook his head, not daring to close his eyes for fear he might never be brave enough to reopen them. He waved Morunasa on.
Deeper into the banyan they went and, with each step, the stench grew. The flies became so numerous he could feel their hail against his skin. To survive the nightmare, Carnelian withdrew inside, tried to dull his senses.
They came into a region where the root tapestries had something at their centres. Squinting, Carnelian saw these were the bodies of Plainsmen, their sallow flesh striped with lacerations. He doubled up and his hands fell into the mush of figs as his body convulsed and pumped out vomit. He stumbled away in horror as he saw the matter turning black with flies.
He rose, trying to rub his hands clean down his robe, staggering as he turned, seeing men hanging everywhere. Morunasa loomed close.
'Why do you hang up the dead?' Carnelian gasped.
The Maruli seemed amused. 'What makes you think they are dead? Our Lord prefers to sup on living flesh.'
Morunasa's head fell back and he closed his eyes, in ecstasy and pain. 'Even now he feeds.'
Carnelian would not allow himself to understand.
Morunasa lowered his chin and gazed at Carnelian. 'Where do you imagine these flies come from?'
The Maruli's lips curled with disgust. 'Does your pathetic weakness stop you feeling the glory here? The majesty?' He pointed up at one of the men. 'From death comes life. It is the deepest sacrament.'
Carnelian felt the bile rise again. His eyes welled tears and as fast as he could brush the flies away, they settled onto his sweaty skin, itching his mouth and eyes, trying to find a crevice to lay their eggs.
'Is he here?' he hissed through his teeth.
'Very close, Master. Very close.' Morunasa pulled Carnelian upright and forced him to take several steps, before, enraged, Carnelian threw him off.
'Move, Maruli, take me to the heart of this filthy place.'
Morunasa smiled again. 'You'll find the Master does not share your sacrilegious opinion of our sacred tree.'
'Move on.'
Morunasa began to move away. Carnelian followed, desperately trying to inure himself against the assaults of touch and smell. However much he squinted, he was aware of the hanging men twitching as maggots feasted on their flesh.
The density of flies deepened the murk. Each step mulched the figs up to his ankles. The trunks grew in girth, their roots narrowing the way with their arches. At last they reached a trunk so immense it might have been
