Cadool seemed unmollified. "You ask him a lot of questions."

"Yes."

"And he tells you many things."

"Ah," said Mokleb. "That’s it, isn’t it? Prior to my arrival, you were Afsan’s confidant. It bothers you that he now shares the intimate details of his life with me."

Cadool lifted a hand so that Mokleb could see the pointed tips of his claws peeking out of their sheaths. "Not everyone," he said slowly, "wishes to be analyzed by you."

Mokleb took a step back, conceding territory. "Of course. I didn’t mean to upset you."

"If that’s all you wish to say, then please excuse me. I have business to attend to."

"No, wait. I did seek you out for a purpose. I need your help."

"My help?"

"Yes. I need some information."

Cadool’s voice was firm. "I will not betray Afsan’s confidences. Not to you or anyone."

"I’m not looking for that kind of information. I want to know about the five original hunters. You are a Lubalite."

"Yes."

"I need to know about Mekt."

Cadool sounded intrigued despite himself. "Why?"

"To help me with my work with Afsan."

"Afsan has mentioned Mekt to you?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

Mokleb decided there’d be little harm in telling Cadool. "Whenever Afsan discusses the Original Five, he mentions Mekt last."

"Afsan has an orderly mind," said Cadool. "It doesn’t surprise me that he recites lists in the same sequence each time."

"Ah, but that’s just it. He recites the other four names in no particular order at all, but Mekt is always last. Indeed, sometimes he hesitates before mentioning her name."

"And this is significant?"

"Yes, indeed. It’s through such things that we can catch glimpses of the forces that move us."

Cadool looked unconvinced. "Whatever you say, Mokleb." He paused for a moment, then: "Like the other original hunters, Mekt was formed from one of the five fingers of God’s severed left arm. Some scholars — ones like you, who emphasize the order in which things are said — suggest that she was the second hunter formed, after Lubal, since her name is mentioned second in the first sacred scroll. Mekt was a great hunter and is probably best remembered for killing an armorback, as told in the fourth scroll. When the original five hunters and original five mates began laying claims to specific territories, legend has it that Mekt took much of what is now Capital province’s northern coast and part of eastern Chu’toolar."

"Anything else?"

"Not really, except the famous part, but surely you already know that."

"Know what?"

"Why, that Mekt was the first bloodpriest."

"She was?"

"Goodness, Mokleb, surely you know at least the first sacred scroll? ’The ten who had been the fingers of God came together and produced five clutches of eight eggs. But God said soon all of Land would be overrun with Quintaglios if all those egglings were allowed to live. Therefore, She charged Mekt with devouring seven out of every eight hatchlings, and Mekt was thus the first bloodpriest.’"

"I thought bloodpriests were all male."

"They are now. The seventeenth scroll is all about that." Cadool shook his head. "I’m surprised, Mokleb: I can’t read, and even I know these things."

"What does the seventeenth scroll say?"

"That Mekt refused to continue being the bloodpriest. She said it was inappropriate for one who lays eggs to be involved in the devouring of hatchlings. By that time, there were many more Quintaglios than just the original ten, and Detoon the Righteous — you do know who he was, I hope — established a secondary priestly order, exclusively male, to look after culling the infants."

"Fascinating," said Mokleb.

Cadool shook his head again. "You know, Mokleb, given that you can read, you really should do it more often."

Mokleb, her mind racing, bowed concession. "That I should."

Novato and Garios finished loading the lifeboat with supplies: dried meat and fish, amphoras full of water, books in case the journey up the tower proved boring, paper for making notes and sketches in case it did not, leather blankets in case it got cold, and. of course, one of Novato’s best far-seers.

Although from the outside the lifeboat’s hull was rounded, the interior was all a simple rectangular hollow. As she loaded her !ast carton of meat, Novato shuddered. The lifeboat had seemed roomy when empty, and now, filled with provisions, it perhaps could be described as cozy, but twenty days within might make her mad with claustrophobia. Still, that was the round-trip value: after ten days, the lifeboat should reach the summit of the tower. Perhaps she’d be able to get out then and walk around.

Finally, it was time to go. Garios and Karshirl stood just outside the lifeboat’s open doorway, ready to say goodbye. Novato bowed to them, then said simply, "See you later."

But Garios was not one to let such a moment pass without something more. He handed a small object to Novato. It was a traveler’s crystal, six-sided and ruby red. "Good luck," he said, then, bowing deeply, he quoted the Song of Belbar: "‘If beasts confront you, slay them. If the elements conspire against you, overcome. And if God should call you to heaven before you return, then heaven will be the richer for it, and those you leave behind will honor you and mourn your passing.’" He paused. "Travel well, my friend."

Novato bowed once more, then leaned back on her tail and touched the part of the wall that controlled the door. From the inside, the lifeboat’s walls grew momentarily foggy, and she knew that from the outside they would have appeared to liquefy. When the walls cleared again a moment later, not even a faint etching on the transparent hull material marked where the door had been.

The lifeboat began to move up the tower. Looking down through the floor, Novato could see Garios and Karshirl rapidly diminishing from view — father and daughter, although they probably didn’t know that. It was only because of the difference in their sizes, Garios being twice Karshirl’s age, that Novato could tell them apart.

After just a few moments, the lifeboat had passed through the apex of the blue pyramid and was now rising up in the open air. The pyramid was sitting in a hollow scooped out of the cliff. The strip of beach on either side of the pyramid’s base looked like a beige line.

The coastline of Fra’toolar was enjoying a rare day of reasonably clear skies. Novato’s view continued undiminished, except for the parts blocked by the four ladder-like sides of the tower. She could soon see huge tracts of Fra’toolar province and, stretching off to the south and east, the vast world-spanning body of water, each wave cap an actinic point reflecting back the fierce white sun.

The lifeboat had accelerated briefly, but now seemed to be moving at a steady rate: equal intervals elapsed between the passing of each rung of the ladders. Novato had seen ground from the air before, when flying aboard her glider, the Tak-Saleed, and its successor, the Lub-Kaden. But she’d never been this high up. Looking straight out, she could see that she was passing the levels of distant clouds. Looking up, the four sides of the tower converged infinitely far above her head.

Novato had worked with charcoal and graphite to capture images of planets and moons observed through her far-seers. But those illustrations had been made over daytenths, with objects crawling across her field of view. She wanted to sketch what she was seeing now, but with each moment the ground receded further and previously invisible parts of the landscape appeared at the edges.

Rivers and streams cut across Fra’toolar like arteries and veins. Tracts of forest and open fields were visible. And what was that? A series of rounded brown hills — hills that were moving! A thunderbeast stampede!

Novato felt dizzy as the heights grew greater. She could now see well into the interior of Fra’toolar, although clouds obscured much of it to the north, their tops fiercely bright with reflected sun.