Part 90 (1/2)

”I remember a river running here. . . . Perhaps I was mistaken. Still it goes the way we want to, so let's follow it.”

As the sun got higher in the sky the sweat started to trickle down my face, back and from under my arms. Five minutes later I saw d.i.c.kon drop behind and take a surrept.i.tious swig from one of the water bottles he was carrying.

He and I both carried four, and Ky-Lin another two, and these were meant to last us until we reached the temple: Ky-Lin's were for cooking and was.h.i.+ng, ours for drinking. I was sorely tempted to copy him but decided to wait until Ky-Lin called a halt.

By my reckoning this must have been near noon, and we were now in a s.h.i.+mmering landscape, strewn with rocks under a baking sun. I blinked gritty eyes, but the s.h.i.+mmering persisted, like some curtain of gauze billowing out over a scene at best only guessed at.

”Right,” said Ky-Lin. ”Unload me, please, and then start digging.”

I had wondered why we bought two mattocks some days past: now it seemed I was to find out.

”Digging?” d.i.c.kon and I queried in unison.

”Digging,” said Ky-Lin firmly. ”Every midmorning and every night you will dig a hole, or a trench, or whatever you prefer, to hide us from the worst heat of the day, and the extremes of cold at night. During the journey we will travel till noon, then rest until sunset. Then we shall march again till it gets too cold, and rest till dawn. That way we shall escape the worst extremes of temperature. First, a drink for everyone-only a mugful-and after the hole is dug we can eat.”

Growch was so exhausted he just lay on his side, panting, his tongue flapping in and out like a snake tasting the air, so I served him first, letting him lap the lukewarm water from the cooking pot. He was so grateful that he showed us the best place to dig, and even helped for a while, the sand flying out between his hind legs far faster than we could dig. Once we had dug a reasonable trench we settled down in it and shared out the rice cakes, dried fruit, and cheese that was to be our midday meal from now on. At night we should have something cooked, and I would make enough rice cakes to eat cold at the next meal.

Propping a blanket across the trench, supported on the upended mattocks, I settled back to sleep for a while in sticky shade, but saw d.i.c.kon once again helping himself from one of his water skins, and was alarmed to see that he had almost finished one. Well, he'd get none of mine: I had to share with Growch.

I noticed that Ky-Lin had eaten but little and drank less; when the same thing happened that evening, I questioned him.

”I can manage for a few days; then I shall need rice, water, and salt in quant.i.ty.”

”Salt? In this heat? It will only make you thirstier!”

”Not at all. Everyone needs salt, and you humans sweat it away in the hot sun.

Without it you will become weak and dizzy, and your arms and legs will ache.

That is why I insisted you bring salted meat with you: at least you will receive some that way.”

We moved on again as the sun sank, a red ball, into the western sky, and kept the same routine day by night by day. It was very hard to reconcile the great extremes of temperature; at midday I would have given anything to be naked and blanketless, at night I could have welcomed two layers of everything.

Once the s.h.i.+mmer of heat left the land at night, the stars were incredible; they seemed to be so much nearer, as if one could reach up and s.n.a.t.c.h them from the sky. It seemed some little compensation for the sting of sweat in one's eyes at midday, and the chattering of one's teeth twelve hours later.

Have you ever heard a dog's teeth chatter?

By the third day the mountains we had left had disappeared into haze, those we were moving towards seemed no nearer, those to the west invisible. The desert makes you feel very small: there is too much sky. There is nothing to mark your progress, no trees or bushes or other landmarks, so you might just as well be standing still, or be an ant endlessly circling a huge bowl.

When I woke on the fourth morning and reached for the last of my water flasks, I found it was missing. I had been careful to follow Ky-Lin's instructions; it would be on the fifth day that we would reach the temple, and the water must last that long. There was a full day to go, and there wasn't a drop left! Frantically I shook the other skins: all empty. I couldn't have dropped the full one, surely! No, I remembered clearly the night before shaking it to make sure none had evaporated.

Springing to my feet I was just in time to see d.i.c.kon emptying the last of the water down his throat and sprinkling a few drops over his head and face. He started guiltily as he saw me.

”Sorry! I was just so thirsty. . . . Anyway, it's not far now. We can manage for a day. . . .”

I struck him hard across the mouth. ”You selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.d! You had four skins all to yourself, and Growch and I had to share! I wish you had never come, I wish you were dead!”

”Hush, child!” said Ky-Lin. ”Bring Dog over to me and close your eyes. I will give you some of myself. . . .” and he breathed gently down his nostrils onto our faces. ”There! You will not feel thirsty for a while.”

And it was true. Both Growch and I managed that day without needing water; somehow Ky-Lin had transferred liquid, precious water from his body to ours: I only hoped that it would not hurt him. Magic only goes so far.

That day we travelled faster and further than any day before, and the following morning Ky-Lin woke us early.

”By midday we should be there,” said Ky-Lin encouragingly. ”Just over that little ridge ahead and you will see the temple. And then water, food, rest, shelter . . .”

The struggle up that ridge was a nightmare. The sweat near blinded me, I ached, my limbs wouldn't obey me, my throat hurt, I was too dry to swallow.

At last we topped the incline and, full of antic.i.p.ation, gazed down on Ky-Lin's fabled city.

Only it wasn't there.

Nothing, except a heap of tumbled stones.

Chapter Twenty.

I gazed around wildly, thinking for one stupid moment that we were in the wrong place, but one look at Ky-Lin's stricken face told me the truth.

It was d.i.c.kon who voiced all our thoughts.

”Well, where is it then? Where's your town, temple, water, food, shelter, and rest?”

I had never seen Ky-Lin look so dejected. For an eye-deceiving moment he lost all color and almost appeared transparent, his beautiful plumed tail dragging in the dust. But even as I blinked he regained his color, and his tail its optimism. The only sign of disquiet was a furrowing of his silky brow.

”Well?” d.i.c.kon was panicking, his voice hysterical. ”What do we do now?”

”What happened, Ky-Lin? There was something here once. . . .”

He turned to me. ”I don't know. I wish I did. I told you it was a long time since I was here. Let's go down and see. There must be something we can salvage from all this.”

At my feet Growch was whimpering. ”Sod me if I can go no further. Me bleedin' paws hurt, me legs is sawn off, me stummick tells me me throat's cut and I could murder a straight bowl of water. . . .”

I picked him up, though my body told me I ached as much and was twice as thirsty, and we all stumbled like drunkards down the slope to the first of the tumbled wrecks of stones. When we reached them we found they were not stones but mud bricks, and as I looked around I could see this was the remains of what had once been a street of shops or small dwelling places, and as they fell they had crumbled and broken.

Ky-Lin prowled down the street, looking here, there, everywhere. ”No sign of war or pestilence. This place has been empty for many, many years, but it looks as if they went peaceably. Everything has been cleared away, no artifacts left about, no evidence of fire. . . . Let's take a look at the temple, or what's left of it.”

Not much. We threaded our way through other deserted, tumbledown streets until we reached what must have been a courtyard. It surrounded a partly stone-walled temple, with now-roofless cells behind, which would have housed the monks. Sand had drifted deep on the temple floor, the roof had fallen in and the stone altar was empty. No idols, no incense, no prayer wheels, no bells. Only the wind, shush-shus.h.i.+ng the sand back and forth across the stone floor in little patterns. On either side of the altar were a couple of stone lumps, now so eroded by sand, sun and wind that they were unrecognizable.

Unrecognizable to all but Ky-Lin, that was.

”Here, girl: come see what is left of my brothers. . . .”

Nearer I could see what must have once been their heads, their tails.

”Were they Ky-Lins too?”

He nuzzled the stones lovingly. ”Once. But these two attained Paradise a long time ago, and the monks carved them to remind them of my Master's visit.”