"Come hold this steady," she said as she climbed cautiously onto the table, which like everything else in this strange little subworld was made entirely from living plants, densely intertwined. It wobbled but held; apparently the furniture was indeed meant to be used, if not for the purpose Renie had in mind. The Stone Girl came forward and did her best to brace it.

Renie stretched up until she could get her hands into the vegetation of the low ceiling and began digging at the tangled branches, pulling aside that which could not be broken or torn until she had made a hole through which she could see the velvety dark sky, and the faint early stars. Reassured, she quickly began to widen the hole until it was big enough for her shoulders. She pulled herself up, grunting with the effort, and took a quick look around the rooftop. Satisfied that none of the scuttling things were waiting there, she let herself down again.

"Come on," she told her companion. "I'll lift you up."

The Stone Girl took some convincing but at last allowed herself to be boosted through the hole.

"There," Renie said as she lifted herself onto the roof beside the girl. "On the far side, see? Those vines will get us to the house nearest the tower, then we can go up from there."

The Stone Girl looked down at the Ticks swarming on the ground, then eyed the sagging creepers with mistrust. "What do you mean?"

"We can climb them—put our feet on the lower ones and hang onto the ones higher up with our hands. It's how they build bridges in the jungle." She did not feel as confident as she sounded—she had never actually crossed such a bridge, in a jungle or anywhere else—but it was surely better than sitting in the little house waiting for the Ticks to notice them.

The Stone Girl only nodded, overtaken by a sort of weary fatalism.

Trusting because I'm a grown-up. Like one of those stepmothers. It was an unpleasant burden, but there was no one to share it. Renie sighed and moved to the edge of the roof. She beckoned the Stone Girl and then lifted her up to the thick vine that stretched upward at an angle beside them, not releasing her grip until she was sure it would bear the little girl's weight. "Hang on," she told the child. "I'm climbing up now."

For a long moment after she swung herself up Renie had to cling with her hands and legs until she could get in position to grab the higher vine and stand. The lower vine swayed alarmingly beneath her bare feet until she got her balance straight. "Go ahead," she told the Stone Girl as she helped her stand and reach the upper vine. "Just go slowly. We'll get off and rest at that roof there—the tall house between us and the tower."

Going slowly turned out to be their only option. It was hard enough to keep their feet on the slippery vine while stepping over knots of tangling, leafy branches. Although the Ticks did not exactly seem to have noticed them, Renie wondered whether their senses were as limited as the child had suggested: those lurking just below seemed to be growing increasingly agitated. She couldn't help imagining what the creatures' response would be if she and her companion were suddenly to drop down into the brambles, right in their midst.

It seemed like a good idea to stop looking down.

The light was now almost completely gone. When they reached the roof of the tall house, halfway to the spire, Renie began to think that resting could be a bad idea—that they might be better off using the last light to help in the difficult climb. The Stone Girl stopped, still several steps short of the roof.

"What's wrong?"

"I c–can't go anymore."

Renie cursed silently. "Just get to the roof, then we'll rest. We're almost there."

"No! I can't go anymore! It's too high."

Renie looked down, confused. It was less than half a dozen meters to the ground. She was a little girl, of course. Renie couldn't afford to forget that, but still. . . . "Can you just make it a little bit farther? When we get to the roof, you won't have to see the ground anymore."

"No, stupid!" She was almost crying with anger and frustration. "The vine is too high!"

The Ticks seemed to be gathering beneath them. Distracted by their churning, it took Renie a moment to see that the child was right. The higher of the two vines they were using for their bridge had been rising more steeply than the lower. The Stone Girl had stretched her arms almost to their capacity just to keep a grip on it, but another few paces and it would be beyond her reach.

"Jesus Mercy, I'm sorry! I am stupid, you're right." Renie struggled against panic. The Ticks were now swarming over each other just below them like worms in a bucket. "Let me get closer and I'll help you." She inched forward until she could take one arm off the upper vine and wrap it around the little girl. "Can you hold onto my leg? Maybe even stand on my foot?"

The Stone Girl, who had clearly been keeping a worried silence for some time, now burst into tears. With help, she managed to wrap herself around Renie's thigh and grip Renie's ankle with her feet—it was an awkward and undignified position, but Renie found that if she was careful she could inch upward. Still, by the time they toppled off onto the cushiony safety of the roof perhaps another quarter of an hour had passed and the last daylight was gone.

"Where's the moon?" Renie asked when she had finally caught her breath.

The Stone Girl shook her head sadly. "I don't think they have a moon in More Very Bush anymore."

"Then we'll have to make do with starlight." Sounds like a song title, Renie decided, a bit giddy with exhaustion and the very temporary respite from climbing over the Ticks. She sat up. The light was minimal, but it was enough to see the silhouette of the tower and even a glow from the belfry. Her heart leaped. Could it be !Xabbu? She longed to shout out to him, but was much less certain now about the deafness of Ticks.

"We have to go," she said. "If I wait any longer my muscles will cramp up. Come on."

"But I can't reach!" The Stone Girl was on the verge of weeping again.

A brief instant of irritation dissolved quickly. My God, what I've put this child through! The poor little thing. "I'll carry you on my back. You're small."

"I'm the biggest kid in my house," she said with a shadow of indignant pride.

"Yes, and you're very brave." Renie crouched. "Climb up."

The Stone Girl struggled up onto Renie's back, and from there was boosted onto her shoulders so that her cool, solid little legs lay on either side of Renie's neck. Renie stood and swayed a bit, but found the girl's weight manageable.

"Now the last part," Renie said. "Hang on tight. I'll tell my friends how much you helped me."

"I did," the Stone Girl said quietly as they moved out onto the vines again. In a rare stroke of good luck, the bottom vine hung a little lower than the rooftop, so that Renie could step down instead of having to climb up with the child clinging to her back. "I did help you. Remember the Jinnear? I helped you hide, didn't I?"

"You certainly did."

The last part of the climb was the hardest, and not just because of the added weight and clumsiness caused by her burden. Renie's muscles had been worked too hard for too long, with too little rest, and her tendons all seemed to be pulled tight as piano wires. If not for the nagging fear that time was running out, that any moment now the Other might stop fighting and the very world might evaporate under her, Renie might have crawled back down to the roof to sleep, even with her friends only a stone's throw away.

Each step an agony, the angle of the vines growing steeper as the tall tower grew nearer, she did her best to distract herself.

What the hell are Ticks anyway? Why should a machine be afraid of bugs? And Jinnears? What are they?