Rabat and went out of the water with him, though he was kicking and complaining. She never once even looked at Kulik. Mara quickly splashed herself all over, keeping close to Rabat, who stood near her, her brown tunic floating around her middle, staring hard at Kulik. Then Daima called, "Mara," who most reluctantly got out of the water, feeling it flow down off her and away from the stuff of her tunic, so that it was dry at once. Mara saw that Daima had called to her because a woman was bending down to take Daima's cans. As Daima took the cans from her, this woman giggled and smiled, just as if she had not been going to steal Daima's precious cans.

Rabat had got out of the water, and was standing with them, her tunic streaming and very dark, then lighter and then silver.

Everyone was getting out of the pool, and the animals that had not gone off to the other ridge were coming back and standing at the edge again.

Mara saw that Dann had had all the dust washed off him, but his hair was tangled and dull and her own felt stiff and nasty. Would she ever again have smooth, clean, shiny hair?

Daima, her hands filled with her four cans, and Mara, holding Dann, and Rabat went together away from the pool. Dann was tugging at Mara's hand, looking back over his shoulder at the pools and the animals and chanting, "Water, water, I want the water."

"You mustn't ever go there by yourself," said Daima, and suddenly Mara understood what a very big danger that was. If Dann got away from them and went to the water... She would have to watch him every minute. He could never be left alone.

Soon they were walking through the rock houses. Some were bigger than Daima's, some smaller, some not more than a room with a roof of rough grass. The stone roofs of some houses had fallen in. There were heaps of rock that had been houses. Outside every house was a big tank made of rock. There was one outside Daima's. All kinds of little pipes and channels led from the different roofs to the tank.

Rabat was saying things to Daima that Mara knew were important.

"I milked our milk beast," she said. "And I gave it food and water. I knew you were busy with your grandchildren." She did not make that last word a joke with her voice, but Mara knew she meant to tell Daima she did not believe her story.

"Thank you," said Daima. "You were very kind. I am in debt to you," she said, in the same special way.

"I took half the milk, as usual," said Rabat.

"I'm going to need milk for the children," said Daima.

"She is giving less milk than she was."

"Then I shall need all of it."

"You are indebted to me."

"You can put the debt for the milk beast against your debt to me for the roots."

"What about the soldiers?"

"That is such a big debt I don't think a little milk could match it." "A quarter of all the milk," said Rabat.

"Very well," said Daima. Her voice sounded heavy, and angry. She did not look at Rabat, who was looking at her in a way that said she was ashamed. "They are such pretty children," Rabat said, trying to make up for insisting on the milk.

Daima did not say anything.

They had stopped outside the house next to Daima's. Suddenly the two women embraced, and Mara could see they hadn't meant to. Rabat was saying, "I have hardly any food left. Without the milk."

"Don't worry about it," said Daima. "We'll all manage somehow."

Rabat went into her house, taking the water cans, and the others went on to Daima's house.

Mara stopped by the big rock cistern. "Is there water in here?"

"There would be if it rained."

Dann was jumping up like a puppy, trying to get hold of the cistern's edge so as to haul himself up. Daima took the cans of water into the house, rescuing Dann's jar, which was in danger of being kicked over. She came back and lifted Dann up and sat him on the edge of the cistern.

"There's a scorpion," he said.

"It must have fallen in, then."

Mara was trying to pull herself up: her hands could not get a proper grip on the edge, which she could only just reach. Daima lifted her up and she sat by Dann, pulling her legs up well away from the angry scorpion, which was trying to climb up the rocky sides, but falling back.

"Poor thing," said Mara.

"It's like the water stinger," said Dann, "only much smaller."

Daima fetched a stick, pulled herself up, sat on the edge of the tank and said, "Mind," reaching down the stick. The scorpion gripped it with its pincers, Daima lifted — and the scorpion let go. "If you don't hold on you'll die there," said Daima, but this time the scorpion kept its grip on the stick, and Daima lifted it out carefully. The three watched the beast scuttle off into the mats of dead grass.

"It's hungry," said Daima, "just like everything else."

It was so hot on the edge of the rocky box Mara's thighs were burning. She jumped down. So did Daima, and lifted down Dann before he could protest.

"How long since there was water in that?"

"We had a big storm about a year ago. The cistern filled up. I kept carrying water through to the tank you saw inside. And I've made that water last."

"Perhaps we will have another storm," said Mara.

"Sometimes I think it will never rain properly again."

Inside the house Dann began yawning. He ate some sour milk, making faces; and then Mara took him next door, to the lavatory, and then to his bed. He was asleep at once.

Mara thought, I want Dann to sleep, so as to sleep away the bad memories, but I want to remember everything. What is the What Did You See? game if it is not trying to remember everything? The light was going outside. Daima lit the big floor candle. This room was cool because of the rock walls, in spite of the warm air coming in at the window. Tomorrow the sun would jump up like an enemy and then soon it would be too hot to go out of doors.

Mara sat at the rock table with Daima.

"Is Rabat a spy?" she asked. "Does she tell the others everything about us?"

"She is a spy but she doesn't tell everything." Daima saw from Mara's face that she did not know what to ask. "Things are not simple," she said. "It's true that I shouldn't trust Rabat — isn't that what you are thinking?"

"Yes."

"But she did look after me when I was ill. And I looked after her when she broke her leg. And when my children were small she helped me with them."

"Didn't she have any children?"

"She did, but they died. It was when we had the little drought, and they got the drought sickness."

"Will she tell the others about the soldiers asking for us?"

"She might, but I don't think so. But it wouldn't matter. If the soldiers offered money for us, yes. But I think they were really running away as fast as they could. Rabat counts on me. She has very little food left. When the traders came last time I bought food for her because she had nothing to exchange. They give flour in exchange for the roots, but it is difficult finding the roots. Some people here grow a little poppy, but it has been too dry. The water in her tanks is finished, and I've been giving her some. And she does help me with the milk beast." "Why doesn't she have one?"

"I said things were not simple. She had four milk beasts left. She and her husband gave me one for my children. It was her husband that was so kind: he was a really good man. And he died. One night some people on the run came through here and they stole her three milk beasts. So now she shares mine. It is only fair — I suppose."

"Do you always fetch water from the pool where we were today?"

"That little river has been dry for a couple of years. The big river has been nearly dry. I've got enough water in my tank in there to last us, if we are careful. I'm going back to the pool tomorrow when everyone goes. And I want you to keep Dann here."

"You think Kulik meant to drown him?"