I was conscious of nothing more until I was awoken by the touch of a tentacle against my leg. A Mi’aata had entered the room. I sat up and immediately became aware that my face was exposed. The creature didn’t react—probably, I realised, because it was unfamiliar with Iriputiz’s appearance.
“We have arrived,” it said.
“Already?”
“Yes.”
As Clarissa stirred, I thanked the Mi’aata and told it we’d be on deck presently. It handed me a tray, on which there was a skin of water and an assortment of fruits and vegetables, then left us alone.
Clarissa groaned. “My muscles are as stiff as wood.”
“Mine, too. Good gracious, Clarissa, we must have slept for hours and hours. Phenadoor is a long way from the mainland, yet the voyage is already over!”
“I’d hoped for an opportunity to study the vessel. How do Phenadoorian machines function? I can hear no engine, have seen no fumes, can smell no oil—I’m intrigued!”
“Crystals and frequencies, that’s all I know,” I replied. “Perhaps we’ll one day have an opportunity to learn more.”
“Unless we find our way back to Earth.”
I looked at her. She returned my gaze. There was no need to say it—we both saw an odd reluctance on the other’s face. Despite the wounds and exertions and losses, the dangers and our merciless opponents, we were both more engaged with the business of living than we’d ever felt on our own world.
We ate, quenched our thirst, left our quarters—taking our captured pikestaff with us—and followed the corridor to a ramp that led to the ship’s deck. A group of a dozen or so Mi’aata had gathered outside. A great many of them were of an unhealthy hue, their skin pale and blotchy, their limbs quivering uncontrollably.
The creature who’d ushered us aboard at Dock Twelve—the “captain,” though the Mi’aata don’t use such terminology—met us and indicated the group. “The Discontinued. The strongest of them will help you to shore.”
I looked landward and immediately recognised the northernmost limits of the Mountains That Gaze Upon Phenadoor. We were floating about a mile offshore, directly opposite the narrow mouth of a river that emerged from a densely forested valley.
“It’s the Forest of Indistinct Murmurings,” I told Clarissa.
The Discontinued started to flop over the side of the ship. One of them approached us and said, “Follow me in.” Though he spoke Koluwaian, I recognised—from small markings above his left eyes—Colonel Momentous Spearjab.
I turned to bid the captain farewell but he’d already wandered away, obviously uninterested now his duty was discharged.
Spearjab jumped into the water and Clarissa and I dived in after him. He gripped us under the armpits and began to swim. We were all on our backs and thus able to converse.
“I say, Miss Stark!” he exclaimed. “How perfectly splendid to see you! And looking as fit as a fiddle, too! At least, I assume so, not knowing what a confounded fiddle actually is. Ha ha! What! What!”
“Well, I’m a lot better for meeting you again, that’s for certain,” she said.
I asked our friend whether he’d encountered any problems getting to the ship.
“None at all! I went straight through the tunnels, avoided the populated thoroughfares, and when I reached the dock, declared myself Discontinued. Harrumph! What! I was hustled aboard with nary a ‘by your leave!’ Humph! Humph!”
I glanced to my right and saw the other Mi’aata swimming nearby.
“Discontinued? What does it mean?”
“They are the aged and diseased ones, old thing. They’ve lived their lives and are now on their way to jolly well die.”
“On their way to where?” Clarissa asked.
“I’m faking it, dear lady, so can’t possibly know. They probably don’t even know themselves—what!—they’re driven by instinct. Shall we follow and find out?”
“Yes,” I answered, though I already had an idea of what we were going to see.
Looking past the colonel’s face at my companion, I asked, “Clarissa, are we far enough away from Phenadoor? Can Yissil Froon or the Quintessence still infiltrate your mind?”
“I think we’re safe, Aiden. Are we returning to New Yatsillat?”
“No. The destruction you witnessed continued after you were taken and the city is no more. Perhaps, when the yellow suns rise and the Yatsill children visit the Pool of Immersion, they’ll return and rebuild it, but I think our destiny lies elsewhere.”
“You have somewhere in mind?”
“I do, but first we must deal with the threat to Earth.”
Upon reaching the shore, we crossed a wide expanse of sand until we came to the treeline, then stood with the rays of the sun shining on our backs and