it met the fence. He saw a flash, and then the being lay still.
Zhu Irzh became gradually aware that his own mouth was hanging open. His wrist was beginning to swell with a series of painful weals, but the hurt was eclipsed by simple amazement. What, in Hell or out of it, had that been? With the sword drawn, Zhu Irzh sprinted down toward the fallen being, but when he reached the fence, there was nothing there. Snarling under his breath, the demon made a swift search of the vicinity but the being, whatever it had been, was gone. At last Zhu Irzh turned and, glancing around him warily, went back along the path to meet Jhai.
She was not there, but just as Zhu Irzh was beginning to think that the whole thing was some kind of gigantic trick, he saw her coming along the ridge of the hill. She caught up with him at the summit. Below, the arc of the world fell away under the green sunset sky, and the sea, by some curious inversion of the light, had changed to a silvery aquamarine, brighter than the heavens. Zhu Irzh stood on a rocky outcrop at the edge of the summit, impervious to the drop at his feet. If he fell, he'd survive, but he wasn't sure about Jhai. His hair, ruffled by the brief battle, whipped in the delta wind. He sensed Jhai come up behind him and found himself smiling: It's dark . . . How well can she see? . . . I'll pitch her over the edge if she tries anything. She was armed, sensible girl; he could sense the way her fingers gripped the automatic, affecting her balance a little, and the way she moved. His smile widened.
"No need for that, Jhai. I'm not going to attack you, unless you make the first move."
He was expecting protest or anger, but instead she said softly, "Look at the lights." She pointed. Through the haze, the city spread in a blurred star along the delta. From up here, they could see each quarter: Bharulay, Ghenret, Bharcharia Anh, and toward Jhenrai and the harbor, the Paugeng tower spiking up, the highest structure along the flat warehouse district of the port. The warning beacon at its peak flared briefly and a helicopter coming in from the seaward side flipped to turn around it before wheeling at a right angle to the airport. The last crimson edge of the sun slid beneath the horizon, leaving a fiery smear in its wake.
"Look," Jhai said, taking the demon's arm. Deliberately, she was keeping her gaze on the city, so as not to look down and he realized suddenly that she was afraid of heights. It made him feel a little better. "You can see all the way to Orichay. As far as the airport."
"You can see the bridge. And the harbor."
"So you can." Her grip on his arm tightened a little.
"It's cold up here," she whispered. Zhu Irzh turned to her. Her eyes were filled with light, and for a moment no one was there behind them.
"Best go back down," he said.
She nodded. "I'll take you back into the city."
"Do I get an explanation?"
"Yes. But not here. I'll tell you on the way."
He led her down the hill, shivering a little, like an animal or a child. At the compound the driver was waiting, patiently smoking a cigarette. Jhai held the door for the demon; he climbed in, and they set off.
Twenty-Five
The temple of Shai seemed to go on forever. They were in the main cistern now, floating past columns rooted in water. A face looked out at Robin, carved in stone and iron, its mouth fixed in a wide grimace. The stone itself was a dark gray, mottled and speckled like skin. Above them, the ribs of the domes arched upward, vanishing into the soft darkness. The waterways of the cistern were a maze; a pattern that made little sense. It was very quiet. There was no sign of the troop boat. Robin was oddly relaxed, traveling through this silent, melancholy place, as though they had entered some limbo where there was no longer any need to hurry and there was all the time in the world to be oneself. As they rounded one of the numerous bends she saw, without surprise or disgust, the body of an enormous seal. It was little more than a carcass now; the flesh eaten away, the ribs stretching upward and the white