horses to the mountain meadow, and there Vaysh was still waiting for them. Lileem said it looked as if he hadn’t moved a muscle since she’d left him. The horses behind him were magnificent and immense, even more so than the Varrish animals, which had been the largest Flick had ever seen. He sensed that the Zigane would take over the whole proceedings and speak to Vaysh, so before she could do this, Flick pushed his way to the front of the group. ‘I have two questions to ask you,’ he said, to the stern and haughty har before him, ‘and we will not go with you until you answer them.’
Vaysh regarded him stonily. ‘I am not here to answer questions. I am here to help you on your journey.’
‘Is it true?’ Flick asked. ‘I must know. Did Pell really die?’ Despite what Seel had told him, part of him still believed that Thiede had spun some grand illusion.
‘Yes,’ Vaysh replied.
‘Was he made this Tigron thing against his will?’
‘No. Are you ready? We should depart at once.’
Two questions were not enough but the answers Flick had received effectively silenced him. In the world he inhabited, hara did not come back from the dead, or if they did, they were like Orien, mere shadows.
‘You expect us to ride these Gelaming monstrosities?’ Tel-an-Kaa enquired icily.
‘Yes,’ Vaysh said. ‘Do not fear. I am quite capable of guiding you all.’
‘Then you will know of our destination, where we are.’
‘We will know of that, in any case.’
Now it was Mima’s turn to push to the front. ‘How much do you know?’ she snapped. ‘Are you aware, for instance, who I am?’
Vaysh fixed her with a stare. ‘No. It is of little consequence to me who any of you are. Please, mount the horses. My time is precious.’
‘But…’ Mima began.
Tel-an-Kaa reached out to touch her shoulder. ‘Hush,’ she said gently. ‘Say no more.’
The Tigron may know many things, Flick thought, but he does not know about the Kamagrian. Perhaps he cannot see them as he sees the rest of us. He must be like a ghost, a powerful spirit, but he has limitations. The Pell I knew is dead. I must remember that.
‘Where do you wish to go?’ Vaysh asked Tel-an-Kaa.
‘Roselane in Jaddayoth,’ she replied, with clear reluctance. ‘Do you know of it?’
‘I know little of Jaddayoth. You must send me enough information to find it.’
Flick could tell the Zigane was far from happy about that. Perhaps she feared what Vaysh might pick up if she communicated with him by mind touch, but she had no other choice. They were being given a free ride, and the journey otherwise could take months.
After the reality-splitting experience of otherlane travel, the one thing Flick was sure of was that he wanted to keep his horse. Unlike Seel had in the past, he didn’t find the journey unsettling at all. In the space between the worlds, he felt utterly free, at one with the entity that bore him. Every care of his life fled away from him like a shrieking spirit. He laughed aloud and the sound left his essence in sparkling bubbles, leaving a trail behind him. This, he considered, was pure joy, pure being. It was like going through a spiritual cleanse.
When the horse leapt out into familiar reality once more, Flick was still laughing. His companions’ mounts all slid to a halt, but he kept on riding, galloping ahead. He still felt as if he were flying. He was high above the ground because the horse was so big. They had emerged into the mountainous landscape of Roselane, where spires of stone reared towards a cloudy sky. Eagles soared high above and the land seemed to go on forever, unspoilt and seething with power. Flick heard voices calling him back, but he didn’t care. He could very easily ride off into obscurity now. He had a magical Gelaming horse. He could go anywhere, except that he didn’t know how to pass into the otherlanes. Vaysh had controlled the animals on their journey, perhaps to avoid giving Gelaming power away to lesser hara.
Eventually Flick brought the horse to a stamping halt in a high mountain meadow, a valley between immense cliffs. If this was Roselane, he knew he was going to enjoy staying there for a time. It was like being in the landscape of a visualisation, such as those he’d once visited with Itzama, so much bigger than reality should be. If he went into one