concentrate on the shouting. It was fading and had the vibration of running. He looked for and found the disturbance in the ferns that betrayed the youths running headlong. It was then he noticed a ridge of rock rising from the fernland like a tumbled wall. North and south it ran as far as the horizons.
'Praise the Mother,' said Fern near him, in a ragged voice.
Carnelian turned to see his friend fallen to his knees. Tears were glistening down his cheeks as he stared unblinking. Carnelian looked back at the ridge and understood what it was.
Clambering up onto the Backbone, Carnelian took delight in the views it gave into the blue distance, in the cooling breeze, but most of all, in the tearful joy of the Plainsmen.
Fern came scrambling over the rocks towards him. 'We've talked amongst ourselves and even Loskai's had to admit we're not much more than a day's walk from the Twostone.'
Fern gazed over to where Osidian was standing with Ravan and Krow. The Master's sorcery is powerful.'
Carnelian wondered if now Osidian would lose his hold over them. 'Shall we get there today?'
Fern shook his head. 'Night would overtake us if we tried. It'll be better if we make camp here and complete the last leg rested.'
They built their fire up among the smooth black rocks of the Backbone. The Plainsmen were transformed. They moved their thin limbs with vigour. They smiled and laughed. Even their hunting was more successful than it had been for days. The moon rising full and bright seemed an omen of salvation. All the talk was of the delights, the comforts they expected to enjoy the following day once they arrived at the koppie of the Twostone. It was only when they saw Krow, grimly silent, that a shadow passed over their hearts.
Fern sat himself beside the youth. 'I'll talk to your Elders myself. No one'll blame you for Cloud's death.'
Krow gave him a thin smile and Fern put his arm around his shoulders. Loskai was scowling.
'What about our tributaries?' asked Ravan.
'I warrant that we'll find they passed through more than forty days ago,' said Fern and there were grins and nods of agreement.
The Tribe will have given us up for lost,' said one youth.
Frowns all round, uneasy muttering.
That's why we'll not linger more than one night with the Twostone,' said Fern. They'll lend us aquar and, in no more than six days, we'll be home.'
Eyes brightened as the Plainsmen turned again to discussing the festivities the Twostone would be sure to throw to welcome them back from their adventures. Carnelian watched the youths' eyes widening as they realized for the first time that they were now not only just one short day from safety but, in addition, they would be returning as heroes.
'And what about us?' Carnelian asked Fern, quietly.
His friend looked at him, frowning. He angled his head to one side. 'I don't know,' he said at last.
Carnelian thanked him for his honesty. He did not hear the words after that but only the happiness in their voices. Ravan's face was not as bright as the other youths'. Beside him, Osidian looked morose. Carnelian saw how, apart from Ravan, the other Plainsmen were paying Osidian no more attention than they would have a rock. Carnelian could not recall anyone having thanked Osidian for getting them there. After the long nightmare in the wilderness, the Plainsmen had returned to a world they knew. In that world it was the Standing Dead who were powerless.
RAVENER GRIN
And the Skyfather made birds That they might be everywhere his eyes
The plain lay under an immense blue weight of sky. A distant herd appeared to be foothills. Stands of scouring-rush, groves of ginkgos, a few vast spreading acacias were all that alleviated the blank horizon. Trudging along the spine of black rock, it took Carnelian a while to notice the mound rising green from the plain.
He fell back until he was walking beside Fern. That is the first hill I've seen since we came up into the Earthsky.'
'It certainly is a hill of sorts,' said Fern. 'Of what sort?'
Amusement raised the corners of the Plainsman's mouth. 'A tumbling of stones among trees.'
'It's a koppie isn't it, and the one we seek?'
Fern beamed. 'Yes, the koppie of the Twostone.'
Clearly, they were not the only ones that had seen it. Murmurs of excitement were passing among the youths, putting new strength into their legs.
Krow ran up grinning. They'll have been watching us for ages and no doubt will soon ride out to see who we are.'
Some of the youths broke into song. One cracked a joke that made his companions fall about laughing. For a moment their gaiety lifted Carnelian's foreboding, but then his stomach began churning as he imagined the reception the Twostone were likely to give him and Osidian.
Fern led them down from the Backbone, making directly for the koppie. This island in a fern sea made Carnelian remember the stories Ebeny had told of the hills on which her people lived. If these koppies were not as grand as his childish imaginings had made them, neither were they the paltry things his Masterly cynicism had later reduced them to.
Carnelian became aware of the deathly silence and saw how serious the faces round him had become.
'What's the matter?' he asked Krow.
'We should've seen riders by now.'
'Perhaps they're in no hurry. After all, we're approaching on foot.'
'If it were only that,' said Fern, grimly and pointed. 'Look.'
Carnelian looked. 'I can't see anything.'
'Exactly.' Fern turned. 'Smoke should be rising. Even this far out we should be able to see a stubble of lookouts on the koppie's brow.'
They walked on in an uneasy silence until they came close enough for Carnelian to discern that the hill was clothed with cedars. From their midst, two stone towers rose, uneven crags of boulders piled one upon the other, the whole mass bright in the sun. The hill lay within a swathe of land enclosed by a circuit of magnolias. With unblinking stares, his companions were searching for any sign of the Twostone Plainsmen.
Krow cupped his hands together and blew a note that echoed among the trees, but the koppie remained stubbornly still. The cedars on the hill seemed the only living beings as, languidly, they slipped sunlight over their flat canopies.
Krow took them in closer. The ground began sloping down to a ditch the other side of which rose steeply as an earthen rampart along which the magnolias formed towers. The youth led them alongside the ditch, until they were moving through the shadows the trees spilled out over the plain. At last they came to where a bridge of packed earth crossed the ditch to a narrow cutting in the rampart framed by two magnolias. They lingered for a while peering across at the cutting, which was barred by a spiked gate.
'Shouldn't this be guarded?' Carnelian whispered to Fern.
His friend dismissed the question with an angry flick of his hand. They watched as Krow crept across the earth-bridge then leant forward, avoiding the horns studding the gate, to peer through the chinks in its wicker. Krow pushed against it and it opened and he was left standing black against the green beyond, beckoning them to follow.
Carnelian crossed with the others. On either side a ditch held mirrors of dark water. Passing through the gate, he beheld a path shaded by cone trees running in the direction of the hill. They carefully closed the gate behind them before setting off along the avenue. Another wall of trees lay ahead. When they reached them, these turned out to form a double circuit between which there lay a ditch deeper than the first. An earthbridge led to a
