She turned, staring at the latticework. At the top a couple of banners moved languidly. A couple of feathers fluttered. A wind must be rising, though I couldn’t feel it.

Inahooli made the gesture of agreement. “I did say that.”

“And I am fine.”

There was a pause. Then Inahooli spoke. Her voice was slow at first. She was obviously thinking out loud. “You are right. The tower should have harmed you. It hasn’t.” She turned back toward me. “You have overcome our magic. The tower is something.”

I didn’t know the word, but I could guess the meaning. The tower was polluted, desanctified. It had lost its power.

“I brought you here,” said Inahooli. “I am the guardian. This will destroy my reputation.” She pulled out her knife.

“Listen to me,” I said.

She grabbed my arm and raised the knife. I twisted and kicked, hitting her in the crotch. It was a good solid kick. She staggered back. I ran.

I made it to the canoe, but she was close behind me. There wasn’t time to get the damn thing into the water. I grabbed a paddle and turned to face her. “Can’t we talk?”

“No!” She lunged at me. I brought the paddle down on her shoulder. She yelled and dropped the knife.

“Listen to me! I mean no harm!”

She grabbed up the knife with her other hand. “How can we use the tower? The masks are ruined. The magic is gone.”

She ducked to the left. My left. I turned and raised the paddle. The knife flashed. I swung. Inahooli jumped back.

“I got you, demon!” she cried.

“What?”

“Don’t you see the blood on the ground?”

I glanced down and saw only the rocky beach. No blood. Something moved at the edge of my vision. Inahooli. She was coming at me, her knife raised again. I jerked the paddle up and out. It hit her in the gut. She grunted and bent double. I brought the paddle down on the back of her head.

She fell. I picked up the knife and threw it out into the reeds, then looked back at her. She lay facedown, motionless.

I knelt and felt her neck, then ran my hand over the back of her head. Her pulse was strong and regular. Her head felt rock solid. Good! But I wasn’t going to stick around and nurse her. She was too likely to make another attempt to kill me. I pushed the canoe into the water, jumped in, and paddled away from the island. The things I did in order to get a myth!

After I was well out past the reeds, I noticed something was wrong with my left arm. I pulled in the paddle and took a look. My shirt was slit from the elbow to the wrist. Blood dripped onto the dark wood of the canoe and onto my jeans. “Goddammit.” I took off the shirt and twisted my arm, trying to see the cut. There was a twinge of pain in my shoulder. Funny. I had forgotten how stiff the shoulder was. The cut was long and shallow. A scratch. Nothing to worry about. It was bleeding well, which ought to reduce the risk of infection. Not that infection was likely, unless from something that I had brought with me. I wrapped my shirt around the arm and tied the sleeves together. Then I went back to paddling.

A wind blew, light and fitful. Waves splashed against the canoe. My arm began to ache. My shoulder also. I concentrated on my breathing: in and out, keeping time with the motion of my arms as I lifted the paddle and brought it forward, drove it into the water and pulled it back.

Ahead of me was the shore. Where could I land? I shaded my eyes. There was a figure on the bank above the reeds. No. Two figures. They waved at me. I turned the canoe and paddled toward them. In a moment they were out of sight. The reeds leaned over me, their shaggy heads swaying, and I had no room to move. I stuck the paddle down, hit bottom, and pushed. The canoe went forward through the vegetation into an area of clear water. Nia and Derek waded out and pulled me to shore.

“Where is Inahooli?” Nia asked.

I stood. The canoe shifted under me. Derek grabbed my arm.

“No!”

He let go. “What is this?” He held out his hand. The palm was red.

“Blood.” I stepped onto dry land, sat down, and fainted.

When I came to, I was on my back, looking up at foliage, the long narrow leaves of monster grass. They shone, edged with sunlight.

Derek said, “Can you understand me?”

“Yes. Of course.” I turned my head. He sat cross-legged on the ground. His upper body was naked, and I could see the bracelet on his arm. The wide band of gold. It kept going in and out of focus.

“What happened?”

“The woman. Inahooli.”

“Nia told me about her. What did she do?”

“She thought I was a demon. I was bad luck for her”—I paused, trying to think of the right word—“artifact. The one she was guarding. She came after me with a knife. I hit her. Derek, she’s alive. What if she comes after me?”

He smiled briefly. “I’ll worry about that. You rest.”

“Okay.” I closed my eyes, then opened them. “The bowhorns.”

“I found one. The Voice of the Waterfall managed to stay on. I don’t know how. He let it run till it was exhausted. He had no choice, he told me. In the end it had to stop. He calmed it and let it rest. Then he turned back. I met him at sundown. We camped on the plain. And in the morning—” He made a gesture I didn’t recognize.

“What was that?”

“What?”

“The gesture. The wave.”

He grinned. “It’s a human gesture, Lixia. It means—approximately—’skip it’ or ‘why bother’ or ‘you can imagine the rest.’ ”

“Oh,” I said.

“We got here at midmorning, after you left.”

“Oh.” I closed my eyes, then remembered something else. “The radios.”

Derek laughed. “They’re on the other bowhorn. The one I didn’t find.”

“Shit.”

“Uh-huh. I thought I ought to make sure the Voice of the Waterfall got back to the lake. Nia will go out tomorrow on the animal we have. She’s a better rider than I am, and this is her planet. With any luck she’ll find the radios. And I will make sure what’s-her-name—the woman who cut you up—”

“Inahooli.”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t cause any more trouble.”

“What does that mean?”

He grinned. “Nothing dramatic. I’ll stay here and keep my eyes open. Now, go to sleep.”

Derek left. I worried. What if Nia couldn’t find the other animal? We’d be alone for the first time. Really alone on an alien planet. It might be days before the people on the ship realized that something was wrong. Then what would they do? How would they find us? I tried to think of signals. A huge fire. That would be best. But could we make one that was big enough? And would they know it was made by us?

I dozed and had bad dreams. Inahooli was after me. I ran down a long corridor between ceramic walls. Then the corridor was gone. I was on a plain. I turned and saw a wall of flame advancing toward me. A grass fire! I ran. But it was so difficult. The grass was tall and thick. I kept tripping. The fire was gaining.

I fell, rolled over, and opened my eyes. Smoke drifted above me. I sat up, terrified.

Oh, yes. The campfire. It burned three meters away. My companions sat around it. Beyond them was the lake and the low sun. It was late afternoon. My arm hurt, my head ached, and my throat was dry. “Is there anything to drink?”

They looked at me.

“Are you all right?” said Nia.

“I’m thirsty.”

Nia brought me a green sphere with a hole punched in the top: something like a gourd or maybe a coconut. Where had she found it? I took it and drank. The liquid inside was cool and had a sharp flavor. Like what? A citrus fruit? Not quite. I drank again.

“Can you talk now?” asked Derek. “What was the woman guarding? And why did she decide you were a demon?”

I looked at Nia, who was squatting next to me. “You were right. Your people have talked about you. Inahooli remembered. Nia the Smith. The woman who loved a man.”

Nia frowned. “There are times I think my people talk too much. Don’t they have anything better to do?”