Slowly she made her way past the six ruined arches and the five whole ones, across the plaza of pink marble flagstones, up the five flights of megalithic stairs. She went past the stump of the fallen black tower, and south and west through the city in the direction of the settlement. Occasionally Koshmar caught sight of a vermilion of the Bengs wandering by itself, grazing on the weeds that sprouted from the cracked paving-blocks. A pack of monkeys ran past her along the rooftops, screeching derisively and hurling things at her from a safe distance. She gave them a glare of loathing. Twice she saw Helmet Men at some remove, going silently about their unknowable missions; neither of them made any gesture that acknowledged her presence.

She was still some way beyond the settlement in a zone of huge fallen statues and mirror-bright pavilions that had crumbled to silvered shards when she saw the slight figure of Hresh in the distance. He was running toward her, shouting, calling her name.

“What is it?” she asked. “Why have you followed me out here?”

He perched on the shoulder of a fallen marble colossus and looked at her expectantly. “To talk with you, Koshmar.”

“Here?”

“I wouldn’t want any of the People to overhear us.”

Koshmar gave him a dour look. “If this is some fantastic new scheme that you mean to propose, you should know before you begin that you have come upon me at a time when I prefer to be alone, and you find me in a most unreceptive mood. Most unreceptive.”

“I’ll have to risk that, I suppose. I want to talk with you about leaving the city.”

“You?” Her eyes flashed in anger. “Running off to Harruel, is that what you plan to do?”

“Not to Harruel, no. And not just me, Koshmar. All of us.”

“All?” The hot stabbing pain beneath her breastbone returned. She wanted to rub at it. But that would reveal her distress to Hresh. Controlling herself with a severe effort, she said, “What foolishness is this, now? I warned you that I didn’t want you to bother me with fantastic new schemes, and—”

“May I speak, Koshmar?”

“Go on.”

“I remind you of the day we entered Vengiboneeza, years ago. When the artificial sapphire-eyes jeered at us, and called me ‘little monkey,’ and told us we were something other than true human beings.”

“We made the proper reply, and the guardians of the gate accepted us as human and let us go in.”

“Accepted us, yes. But they never agreed that we were humans of the Great World kind. ‘You are the humans now,’ is what they said. Do you remember, Koshmar?”

“This is very tiresome, Hresh.”

“What would you say if I told you that I’ve discovered unanswerable proof that the guardians were speaking the truth? That the Dream-Dreamers were the real humans of the Great World times, and that in the Great World times our kind was little more than animals?”

“Absurd, boy!”

“I have proof.”

“Absurd proof. What I said then was that there probably have been many kinds of humans, but we are the only kind that still exists. So the world is rightfully ours. We have no need to discuss this all over again, Hresh. And what does it have to do with our leaving Vengiboneeza, anyway?”

“Because,” Hresh said, “if we are human beings, as you say, and if we are the only humans who still exist, then we should go from this place and build a city of our own, as humans do, instead of living as squatters in the ruins of some ancient people.”

“This is the argument that Harruel made. It was treason and it broke the tribe apart. If you believe what he believes, then you should go to live with him, wherever he and his followers may be. Is that what you want? Then go. Go, Hresh!”

“I want us all to go. So that we can become human.”

“We are human!”

“Then we should leave here so that we can live up to our destiny as humans. Don’t you see, Koshmar, the difference between humans and animals is that animals simply live from day to day, whereas humans—”

“Enough,” said Koshmar in a very quiet voice. “This discussion is over.”

“Koshmar, I—”

“Over.” She put her hand to her breast and pressed hard, and began to rub. The pain was strong enough to make her want to double over and clutch herself, but she forced herself to sit erect. “I came out here to be alone, and think about things that are of concern to me,” she said. “You’ve intruded on my privacy, though I asked you not to do so, and you’ve dredged up all sorts of old nonsense that has no relevance to our situation today. We are not monkeys. Those gibbering things on the rooftops are monkeys, and they are no kin of ours. And we will leave Vengiboneeza, yes, when the gods tell me that our time to leave has come. When the gods tell me, Hresh, not you. Is that understood? Good. Good. Now leave me.”

“But—”

“Leave me, Hresh!”

“As you wish,” he said, and turned and walked slowly back toward the settlement.

When he was out of sight Koshmar huddled down, shivering, while wave after wave of agony swept through her. After a little while the spasm passed, and she sat up, drenched in sweat, her pounding heart gradually calming.

The boy means well, she thought. He is so serious, so deeply concerned with high matters of destiny and purpose. And very likely he is right that the People should leave this place to seek the fulfillment of their destiny somewhere else. Whether we are humans or monkeys, Koshmar thought — and she had no doubt of which the People were — it can do us no good to remain in Vengiboneeza for many years more. That was clear. Eventually we must go forth, we must make a place of our own.

But not now. To leave now would be giving in to the Bengs. The tribe’s departure must not seem to have come about under pressure from them, for that would be a stain on the courage of the People and on her own leadership throughout all the rest of time. Hresh must be made to see that. And anyone else who was impatient to leave. Taniane? She might have put Hresh up to this, Koshmar thought. Taniane was an impatient girl, full of hot ambition. It might even be that she was ready to lead a second secession. Taniane and Hresh were in close league these days. Perhaps, Koshmar speculated, Hresh came here just now with the hidden warning that I must begin to countenance a change in policy, or else a change would be imposed against my will.

Nothing will be imposed against my will, thought Koshmar, in rage. Nothing!

Then she closed her eyes and crouched down again.

I am so very tired, she thought.

She rested, letting her mind go empty, letting her spirit drift in the soothing darkness of the void. After a long while she blinked and sat up once more, and saw that yet another visitor was approaching. The distinctive white-striped figure of Torlyri came into view, walking toward her, waving, smiling.

“There you are,” Torlyri called. “Hresh said you had gone this way.”

You too? Koshmar thought. Coming to plague me with this business?

“Is there some problem?” she asked.

Torlyri seemed surprised. “A problem? No, nothing at all. The sun shines brightly. All is well. But you’ve been gone half a day. I missed you, Koshmar. I longed to be with you, to feel you close to me again. To enjoy the pleasure of being near you, which has been the highest joy of my life.”

Koshmar could find no delight in Torlyri’s words. They had a leaden ring to them, the ring of insincerity, of outright falsehood. It was hard to think of warm good Torlyri as insincere, she who had always been the soul of love and truth; but Koshmar knew that Torlyri spoke now out of guilt and uneasiness, not out of the feelings she once had had for Koshmar. That was ended now. Torlyri had changed. Lakkamai had changed her and her Helmet Man had finished the job.

She said, “I had some heavy thinking to do, Torlyri. I went off alone to do it.”