"I don't think so. And just for the record, neither does Raul." Phoebe came to a halt, as much to catch her breath as to continue the debate. "We've got guns," she said.

"That didn't do us much good at Toothaker's place," Tesla reminded her.

"You think there's something hiding in there?" Phoebe said, studying the black wall that was now no more than three hundred yards from them.

"I'd bet my Harley on it."

Phoebe let out a shuddering sigh. "Maybe you should go back," she said.

"I don't want anything to happen to you on my account."

"Don't be ridiculous," Tesla said.

"Good," said Phoebe. "So if we get parted in there-"

"Which is very possible@'

"We don't go looking for each other?"

"We just go on."

"Right."

"All the way to Quiddity."

"All the way to Joe."

Lord, but it was clammy cold in the mist. Within sixty seconds of entering it, both Tesla and Phoebe were shuddering from head to foot.

"Watch where you walk," Tesla warned Phoebe. "Why?"

"Look there," she said, pointing to a six-inch wide crack in the ground.

"And there. And there."

The fissures were everywhere, and recent. She was not all that surprised. The opening of a door between one reality and another was a violation of the physical by the metaphysical; a cataclysm that was bound to take its toll on matter that lacked mind. It had been the same at Buddy Vance's house as here: the solid world had cracked and melted and fallen apart when the door had opened in its midst. The difference however, and it was notable, was how quiet and still it was here. Even the mist hung almost motionless. Vance's house, by contrast, had been a maelstrom.

She could only assume that whoever had opened this door was both an expert in the procedure and a creature of great self-discipline; unlike the Jaff, who had been a mere novice, and utterly incapable of controlling the forces he had claimed as his own. Kissoon? Raul suggested.

It was not at first thought an unlikely choice. She did not expect to meet a more powerful entity than Kissoon in the living world.

"But if he can open a door between here and the Cosm," Tesia thought,

"that means he has the Art."

That wouldfollow.

"In which case, why is he still playing in the shit down in Toothaker's house?"

Good question. "He's got something to do with this-I don't doubt that-but I don't think he could open a door on his own."

Maybe he had help, Raul said.

"You're talking to the monkey, aren't you?" Phoebe said.

"I think we should keep our voices down."

"You are though, aren't you?"

"Am I movin my lips?" Testa said.

11 9

'Yep.

"I never could-d-" She stopped: talking, and in her tracks. She grabbed Phoebe's arm.

"What?" Phoebe said. "Listen."

Anyone for carpentry lessons? Raul remarked. Somebody higher up the Mountainside was hammering. The sound was muted by the mist, so it was difficult to know how far off the handyman was, but the din laid to rest what little hope Testa had entertained of finding the door unguarded.

She reached into her jacket and took out Lourdes. "We're going to go very slowly," she whispered to Phoebe. "And keep your eyes peeled."

She led the way now, up the fissured slope, the hammering of her heart competing with that of the handyman. There were other sounds she heard, just audible between the blows. somebody sobbing. Somebody else singing, the words incomprehensible.

"What the hell is going on up there?" Testa murmured. There were lopped branches strewn on the ground, and a litter of twigs stripped from other branches, presumably those judged useful by the hammerer. was he building a little house up there, or an altar, perhaps?

The mist ahead of them shifted, and for a moment Testa caught a glimpse of somebody moving across her field of vision. it was too brief for her to quite grasp what she was seeing, but it seemed to be a child, its head too unwieldy for its emaciated body. It left a trail of laughter where it ran (at least she thought it was laughter; she couldn't even be certain of that), and the sound seemed to draw patterns in the mist, like ripples left by darting fish. It was a strange phenomenon, but in its way rather beguiling.

She looked round at Phoebe, who was wearing a tiny smile.

"There are children up here," she murmured.

"It looks that way."

She'd no sooner spoken that the child reappeared, capering and laughing as before. It was a girl, Testa saw. Despite her almost infantile body, she had budding breasts, which were ruddier than the rest of her pale body, and a yard-long ponytail that sprouted from the middle of her otherwise shaved skull.

Nimble though she was, her foot caught in one of the cracks as she ran by, and she fell forward, her laughter ceasing.

Phoebe let out a little gasp of concern. Despite the hammerings and the sobs, the child heard her. She looked round, and her eyes, which were black and shiny, like polished stones, were briefly laid upon the two women. Then the child was on her feet and away, racing off up the slope.

"So much for secrecy," Testa remarked. She could hear the child's shrill voice, raising the alarm. "Let's get out of their way," she said, catching hold of Phoebe's arm and hauling her off across the slope. The traumatized ground made speed virtually impossible, but they covered fifty stumbling yards before halting and listening again.

The hammering had stopped, and so had the singing. Only the sobbing went on.

That's not grief, Raul said.

"No?"

It's pain. It's somebody in terrible pain.

Testa shuddered, and looked straight at Phoebe. "Listen to me-" she whispered.

"You want to go back."

"Don't you?"

Phoebe's face was pale and wet. "Yes," she breathed. "Part of me does." She looked over her shoulder, though there was nothing to see but mist. "But not as much... " she hesitated, full of little tremors,

"not as much as I want to be with Joe."

"If you keep saying that," Testa said, "I'm going to start believing it."

A burst of nervous laughter escaped Phoebe, but turned into tears the next moment. "If we get out of this alive," she said, doing her best to stifle her sobs, "I'll owe you so much."

"You'll owe me an invitation to the wedding is all you'll owe me," Testa said. Phoebe put her arms around Testa, and hugged her.

"We're not there yet," Tesia said.

"I know, I know," Phoebe replied. She stood back from Tesla, sniffed hard, and wiped the tears from under her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"I'm ready."

"Good." Tesia looked back towards the spot where they'd been seen. There was neither sound nor sign of motion. It was not much comfort, given how hard it was to judge distance under these circumstances, but at least there was no horde of Lix or children bearing down upon them.

"Let's climb," she said, and led the way up the slope again. It was impossible to judge their precise direction, of course, but as long as the ground continued to rise ahead of them, they knew they were still on their way to the summit.

After a few paces they had further evidence that they were headed in the right direction. The moaning sound was becoming louder with every yard they covered, and it was soon joined by the voice of the singer. She faltered at first, as though trying to pick up the threads of whatever piece she'd left off singing. Then she apparently despaired of doing so, and began another song: this more melancholy than the first. A lament, perhaps; or a lullaby for a dying child. Whatever it was, it made Tesia feel positively queasy, and she found herself wishing a nest of Lix would appear from the cracked ground, so she'd have something upon which to pin her trepidation. Anything rather than the sobs, and the song, and the image of the skipping child with its lifeless eyes.