The scrape of a boot, instantly stilled, brought her out of her mentalwanderings. They wished to try to follow her? Good luck to them.

Wess was a hunter. She tracked her prey so silently that she killed with aknife; in the dense rain forest where she lived, arrows were too uncertain. Shehad crept up on a panther and stroked its smooth pelt - then vanished so swiftlythat she left the creature yowling in fury and frustration, while she laughedwith delight. She grinned, and quickened her step, and her footfalls turnedsilent on the stone.

Her unfamiliarity with the streets hampered her slightly. A dead-end could trapher. But she found, to her pleasure, that her instinct for seeking out goodtrails translated into the city. Once she thought she would have to turn back,but the high wall barring her way had a deep diagonal fissure from the ground toits top. She found just enough purchase to clamber over it. She jumped into thegarden the wall enclosed, scampered across it and up a grape arbour, and swungdown into the next alley.

She ran smoothly, gladly, as her exhaustion lifted. She felt good, despite thelooming buildings and twisted dirty streets and vile odours.

She faded into a shadowed recess where two houses abutted but did not line up.Listening, she waited.

The soft and nearly silent footsteps halted. Her pursuer hesitated. Grit scrapedbetween stone and leather as the person turned one way, then the other, and,finally, chose the wrong turning and hurried off. Wess grinned, but she feltrespect for any hunter who could follow her this far.

Moving silently through shadows, she started back towards the tavern. When shecame to a tumbledown building she remembered, she found finger- and toe-holdsand climbed to the roof of the next house. Flying was not the only talent Aeriehad that Wess envied. Being able to climb straight up an undamaged adobe wallwould be useful sometimes, too.

The rooftop was deserted. Too cold to sleep outside, no doubt; the inhabitantsof the city went to ground at night, in warmer, unseen warrens.

The air smelled cleaner here, so she travelled by rooftop as far as she could.But the main passage through the Maze was too wide to leap across. From thebuilding that faced the Unicorn, Wess observed the tavern. She doubted that herpursuer could have reached it first, but the possibility existed, in thisstrange place. She saw no one. It was near dawn. She no longer felt exhausted,just deliciously sleepy. She climbed down the face of the building and startedacross the street.

Someone flung open the door behind her, leaped out as she turned, and punchedher in the side of the head.

Wess crashed to the cobblestones. The shadow stepped closer and kicked her inthe ribs. A line of pain wrapped around her chest and tightened when she triedto breathe.

'Don't kill her. Not yet.'

'No. I have plans for her.'

Wess recognized the voice ofBauchle Meyne, who had insulted Quartz in thetavern. He toed her in the side.

'When I'm done with you, bitch, you can take me to your friends.' He started tounbuckle his belt.

Wess tried to get up. Bauchle Meyne's companion stepped towards her, to kick heragain.

His foot swung towards her. She grabbed it and twisted. As he went down, Wessstruggled up. Bauchle Meyne, surprised, lurched towards her and grabbed her in abear hug, pinioning her arms so she could not reach her knife. He pressed hisface down close to hers. She felt his whisker stubble and smelled his yeastybreath. He could not hold her and force his mouth to hers at the same time, buthe slobbered on her cheek. His pants slipped down and his penis thrust againsther thigh.

Wess kneed him in the balls as hard as she could.

He screamed and let her go and staggered away, holding himself, doubled up andmoaning, stumbling over his fallen breeches. Wess drew her knife and backedagainst a wall, ready for another attack.

Bauchle Meyne's accomplice rushed her. Her knife sliced quickly towards him,slashing his arm. He flung himself backwards and swore violently. Blood spurtedbetween his fingers.

Wess heard the approaching footsteps a moment before he did. She pressed herfree hand hard against the wall behind her. She was afraid to shout for help. Inthis place whoever answered might as easily join in attacking her.

But the man swore again, grabbed Bauchle Meyne by the arm, and dragged him awayas fast as the latter, in his present distressed state, could go.

Wess sagged, sliding down the wall to the ground. She knew she was still indanger, but her legs would not hold her up anymore.

The footsteps ceased. Wess looked up, clenching her fingers around the handle ofher knife. '

'Frejojan,' Lythande said softly, from ten paces away, 'sister, you led me quitea chase.' She glanced after the two men. 'And not only me, it seems.'

'I never fought a person before,' Wess said shakily. 'Not a real fight. Onlypractice. No one ever got hurt.' She touched the side other head. The shallowscrape bled freely. She thought about its stopping, and the flow graduallyceased.

Lythande sat on his heels beside her. 'Let me see.' He probed the cut gently. '1thought it was bleeding, but it's stopped. What happened?'

'I don't know. Did you follow me? Did they? I thought I was eluding one person.'

'I was the only one following you,' Lythande said. 'They must have come back tobother Quartz again.'

'You know about that?'

'The whole city knows, child. Or anyway, the whole Maze. Bauchle will not soonlive it down. The worst of it is he will never understand what it is thathappened, or why.'

'No more will I,' Wess said. She looked up at Lythande. 'How can you live here?'she cried.

Lythande drew back, frowning. 'I do not live here. But that is not really whatyou are asking. We cannot speak so freely on the public street.' He glancedaway, hesitated, and turned back. 'Will you come with me? I haven't much time,but I can fix your cut, and we can talk safely.'

'All right,' Wess said. She sheathed her knife and pushed herself to her feet,wincing at the sharp pain in her side. Lythande grasped her elbow, steadyingher.

'Perhaps you've cracked a rib,' he said. They started slowly down the street.

'No,' Wess said. 'It's bruised. It will hurt for a while, but it isn't broken.'

'How do you know?'

Wess glanced at him quizzically. 'I may not be from a city, but my people aren'tcompletely wild. I paid attention to my lessons when I was little.'

'Lessons? Lessons in what?'

'In knowing whether I am hurt, and what I must do if I am, in controlling theprocesses of my body - surely your people teach their children these things?'

'My people don't know these things,' Lythande said. 'I think we have more totalk about than I believed, frejojan.'

The Maze confused even Wess, by the time they reached the small building whereLythande stopped. Wess was feeling dizzy from the blow to her head, but she wasconfident that she was not dangerously hurt. Lythande opened a low door andducked inside. Wess followed.

Lythande picked up a candle. The wick sparked. In the centre of the dark room, ashiny spot reflected the glow. The wick burst into flame and the spot ofreflection grew. Wess blinked. The reflection spread into a sphere, taller thanLythande, the colour and texture of deep water, blue-grey, shimmering. Itbalanced on its lower curve, bulging slightly so it was not quite perfectlyround.

'Follow me. Westerly.'

Lythande walked towards the sphere. Its surface rippled at her approach. Shestepped into it. It closed around her, and all Wess could see was a waveringfigure, beyond the surface, and the spot of light from the candle flame.