this is where I could have acted, and did not. I can't just look at all the causes and say 'this is where it began.' All stories begin in the middle. But I don't think I've been making the right choices for a very long time."
They looked out over the black, swift current separating worlds.
"Maybe it wasn't my fault that Deveth died, and not yours, either. But that's the result and that's what you have to live with. If I hadn't been too afraid not to run the experiment on you, you wouldn't have killed her and I'd still be back at Paugeng, and so would you."
Mhara sighed and looked up at the gunpowder stars. The flowerburst was reflected in his eyes, and he was no longer shivering. From somewhere, she could smell the scent of thousand-flower, faint and sweet.
"I'll come with you," Robin said. "Wherever you go, in Hell or out of it."
Mhara said, "Come, then." He grasped her arm and drew her with him into the tangle of warehouses. He moved quickly through the narrow streets and although Robin could hear voices all around, in sudden snatches of conversation and laughter from the mild air, no one was visible.
"Where is everyone?" she said, as if to herself. Mhara's long-nailed hand was warm and real in her own, but around them there was unseen life in the windows of the houses: a child crying fretfully, an old complaining voice hushing it still. At last, they came out into a square. The myriad dead crowded around Robin and Mhara. She felt hands lift her hair and stroke the collar of her jacket. She caught glimpses of their faces, the fleeting tilt of a smile, eyes catching the light. A girl's long hair brushed her sleeve and the girl was gone into the air, drifting by. Robin turned her head wonderingly and a swarm of lights sailed up through the eaves; she saw a hand come out of the air and catch a handful. By the sudden blaze she saw a lantern full of fireflies and the patient face of a child, the jaw eaten away, and Mhara was pulling her on. She felt as though she were running through water, the dead flowing past her and then they were gone. The road curved round to a high, carved gate, and then she realized where they were.
"Mhara . . .this is like Ghenret."
"What?"
"I know where we are. That was Hangsu Square, and there's the Lion Gate."
"The Night Harbor mimics the world sometimes. Just as Hell does."
Sure enough, as they drew closer, she could see the ornamental carved beast high on its lintel, exactly the same as in the world of the living. Mhara put out a warning hand and caught her wrist. Before them, in the portal of the Lion Gate, was a familiar form. It was the non-dog no longer, but the indeterminate thing that had brought Robin to the cemetery.
"Well, Robin," it said to her lightly. "So we've found one another again." It made a quick sidling movement. "Don't you feel it might be destiny, after all? Didn't you always feel that it was meant?" and now its taunting voice had changed, rang familiar in her ears. "But maybe it wasn't meant, after all," the new voice said, sadly mocking. "Maybe we should end it here." Deveth, sitting on the sofa, after Robin had uttered her one word of rebellion.
"It's you," Robin said. She felt a peculiar sense of anticlimax.
"Isn't that what you're supposed to do, haunt your murderer?" The animal shook its heavy, dull coat, and then Deveth was there, just herself, hawk-faced and wearing her old green jacket. "You went to see my mother, didn't you? She still doesn't believe I'm dead; she's still doping herself up with her trendy sickness pills. And my dear friend Jhai's making new friends, or so I've just seen." Deveth's face twisted and slid, dissolving into the air. "But I am dead. Your new friend tore me to pieces. At least it was quick," she glanced at Mhara. "I suppose I should say thanks for that. And he's prettier than I ever was," she added, turning back to the transfixed Robin. "Well, Robin, aren't you going to say sorry, that you never had the guts to stop tormenting some poor imprisoned thing and turning it into a killer? But you never let principles stand in your way, did you?" Her features slipped and slid once more, and she was half-Deveth, half-something