He had to learn who she was and who were her people. He had to learn about everybody else involved in the war in this Dimension, the Menel above all. This was the first chance he'd ever had to find out exactly where the Menel came from. It might be his last.

It was no longer just a matter of satisfying his own curiosity, or even Lord Leighton's. It could be a matter of life or death-his own, and that of hundreds of millions of people in many different Dimensions.

Blade sighed. It seemed that the stakes got bigger every time he traveled into Dimension X.

Riyannah was a dead weight on Blade's aching back as he tramped towards the south-east. He could only make a rough guess about directions, but he thought he could get them back to the river. Then it would be easy to follow it back upstream to the canyon.

As the woman remained unconscious, Blade began to worry. Could she have serious internal or head injuries which might not show on the surface? Or could she be pretending to be seriously hurt in order to get him off his guard? That would make sense if she now thought he was an enemy. Did she? Without being able to talk to her, it would be almost impossible for him to know until it was too late. Certainly she'd had her doubts about him, a man who killed her enemies but looked very much like them and spoke no language she could understand. She'd been willing to travel with him so far, but did she have any choice? Would she realize that he'd only prevented her from firing on the soldiers who'd killed the Menel to save her own life? A fine string of unanswerable questions!

Blade could be sure of only one thing. He'd have to learn to talk to Riyannah as quickly as possible, and in the meantime he'd watch her closely. He didn't want to make her so suspicious she turned into an enemy. He also didn't want to get a knife stuck into his ribs some night because Riyannah thought she was avenging her dead Menel comrades that way.

About twilight they reached a small stream. Blade lowered Riyannah to the ground, took a blanket out of the pack, and wrapped her in it. She woke up about the time Blade felt his muscles returning to normal. She lay there looking steadily at Blade. It was impossible to tell what she was feeling or thinking. The huge green eyes and the delicate features were totally without expression.

Her silvery hair was as tangled as a hedge, full of leaves and needles. Blade took a comb from his pack, washed it in the stream, sat down beside Riyannah, and gently began to comb out her hair. She flinched at the first touch of his hand, winced several times as he accidentally pulled her hair, but otherwise lay still. When he'd finished, she reached up, ran her fingers through her hair, then smiled faintly.

Blade smiled back, then picked up a canteen. «Drink,» he said, raising it to his lips and going through the motions of drinking. Then he poured a few drips on the ground. «Water,» he said.

Riyannah nodded and reached for the canteen. «Water,» she said, splashing some on her face. «Drink,» she said, and did so.

Blade would have continued the language lesson, but Riyannah soon drifted off to sleep again. Blade recognized the healthy sleep of a totally exhausted body. Carefully he gathered up the rifles, the knives, and everything else that might be used as a weapon. He strapped them all to his pack or put them inside it. Then he lay down, pulled a blanket over him, and pulled his pack under his head. The arrangement looked natural enough for Riyannah not to suspect anything, but she could hardly get at any of the weapons without waking Blade.

So far so good. Blade had the feeling he was going to be saying that to himself quite a few times before his trip through this Dimension was over. Then he stopped thinking about anything and fell asleep.

Blade returned to the wilderness beyond the canyon faster then he'd left it. Now he had clothes on his back, boots on his feet, and something beside raw fish and fruit in his belly. He also had a companion, but she didn't slow him down.

Once Riyannah slept off the shock and exhaustion of the fighting, she showed surprising strength. She couldn't carry as heavy a load as Blade, but she kept up with him every foot of the way. She would stagger the last few hundred yards of each day's march, but she always stayed on her feet to the end.

Riyannah also learned the English Blade taught her with surprising speed. She remembered practically everything, seldom had to be corrected, and even managed to pronounce most of the words correctly. By the end of the second day on the march, Blade had taught her nearly all the basic words they'd need for survival in the wilderness. The lack of communication between them was no longer so dangerous.

Blade didn't care to go farther than this with the language lessons, after one unsuccessful experiment. He drew pictures of various types of flying machines on the ground, then named them. Finally he drew a picture of the Menel machine and said:

«Spaceship.»

He handed the stick to Riyannah and looked curiously at her. She looked back at him, meeting his eyes but not saying a word. Then she quickly scratched out the spaceship and turned her back on him, her shoulders quivering. She was silent for nearly half an hour.

She wasn't willing to trust him with any information about her own people or her own business. Blade wasn't surprised. She also probably realized that he didn't entirely trust her, so it was hardly fair to expect her to hand him all the information he needed on a silver platter!

Blade decided to let serious questions wait until they were a few days farther into the wilderness. Seeing that he wasn't going to behave like the soldiers might win her trust or at least get her off guard.

There was no point in even thinking about what intelligence services delicately called «physical methods»-torture. He was sure nothing he could do to her would make her say a word she didn't want to. He'd simply end up with a corpse, a bad conscience he'd carry to his grave, and no information to carry back to Home Dimension.

Getting back up through the canyon was a slower and wetter job than coming down through it. Several places where Blade had climbed down were completely impassable going the other way. By the time they came out at the wilderness end, it was nearly dark, a chill wind was blowing, and both of them were soaked to the skin up to their waists.

Blade decided to build a fire. The flying machines of either side might spot it, or it might attract the bat-cats. It was still worth the risk, when the alternative was spending the night shivering in wet clothes.

The soldiers carried something rather like a cigarette lighter, except that it generated a miniature laser beam instead of a flame. A handful of dry needles, leaves, and twigs caught the first time around. Blade piled on a few more chunks, then set a whole armload of wood on the ground beside the fire to dry out.

When the fire could be left to itself, Blade unpacked his gear, then pulled off his tunic and shirt. As he did, Riyannah frowned, then stared at him so intently Blade wondered if he'd sprouted a third arm. Then he realized what must be going through her mind. She thought his peeling off his clothes to dry them meant a sexual assault. She was getting ready to fight or run.

He laughed. «No, Riyannah, I do not-«then pointed to his groin, while shaking his head.

Riyannah's eyes shifted from his face to his groin, then back again. She seemed to relax slightly, but she was obviously still uncertain about something. Perhaps she wanted him out of sight so she could take off her own clothes.

Blade nodded. «Yes, Riyannah. I go-«pointing at a nearby tree, thick enough to hide three or four men.