across the labyrinth of rivulets. After a few steps she stopped and looked back at Naeo. “But that’s part of what makes Sylas so exciting, so hopeful, isn’t it? Like the Bringers before him, he brings us a promise of a world without Thoth, without the Undoing, without all the suffering our people have endured.”
Naeo stepped out to follow. She sensed where this conversation was heading. “I suppose, but that still doesn’t make me want to go to his world.”
“Really? You’re not the least bit curious? A world without Thoth, where you’re entirely free? Like everyone else?”
Naeo shrugged.
“A place without Essenfayle or the Three Ways, where summer is winter and night is day? Where people drive carriages without horses and light torches without flames; where they fly—”
“No! I’m not interested!” snapped Naeo, drawing up sharply. “I don’t care about any of that! My father is still here! And – and worse than that – he’s in the Dirgheon, probably half dead or … or worse.” She paused, her heart thumping and her eyes burning. “And it’s my fault!”
It was a huge relief to say it. She had thought about little else since her escape.
It was her fault. Her fault.
The memories came in flashes: stark and clear. There he was, chained to a stone table, covered in sweat and blood, arching with pain whenever his tormentor drew near, screaming until his voice trailed away. She remembered the few quiet moments, those precious moments of reprieve when Thoth would write, or take up his cello, or even leave the room, when her father would turn to her with those large green eyes.
How she loved those eyes.
And in that generous gaze she had felt him saying it would all be all right, felt his strength, his warmth. But she had seen the tears trickling on to the stone. And she had known their meaning. She had seen the despair in those tears.
And what had she done? She had left him behind, she had taken flight, rising on the magical winds above the pyramid. She had seen him there, on the pinnacle. Her beautiful, strong father, raising his bloodied hand to wave them away. And above him, that murderous figure in crimson robes, that empty, merciless face.
Then she had turned in the night sky, and fled.
She pressed her eyes closed and tried to hold that final moment in her mind. When it became too much, a sob escaped her lips.
An arm curled around her shoulders and drew her close. She pushed away at first: she didn’t want to give in to it – she had to be strong. And she didn’t deserve comfort – where was her father’s comfort? But there was something about Filimaya’s presence that caught her off guard, that made her feel safe. It was almost as though, in some small way, Filimaya brought her father closer.
So she didn’t fight any more.
They stood for some time surrounded by the streams, neither of them speaking: Filimaya holding her, Naeo with her arms at her sides.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” said Filimaya, finally.
Naeo shook her head. “Thoth wouldn’t even care about my father if it wasn’t for me. I should be trying to find him.” She pulled away and looked up at Filimaya. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, not to anyone else. I mean, Espasian and I brought Sylas here so that we could change things, so that he and I might do something important. But the thing is –” her voice broke but she forced herself to finish – “the thing is, whenever I pictured a better world, a world after the Undoing – a world without Thoth – I always pictured seeing it with my dad. I think I did some of this – all of it, maybe – for him. To be with him – safe and free.”
Filimaya drew some strands of blonde hair from Naeo’s face. “I do understand,” she said. “We often say that we would move mountains for those we love. In your case, you have the chance to do exactly that: you have the chance to change the world.” She held out her hand to lead Naeo across the next stream. “Tell me, what do you know about Sylas and his mother?”
Naeo shrugged. “I know she’s in hospital – a place run by the Merisi. And I know that she has something to do with this world.”
“That’s all true,” said Filimaya, stepping on a stone in the middle of a stream. “But you are talking about Sylas’s mother. My question is, what do you know of her and Sylas?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, do you know that Sylas thought her dead for many years, just as your father thought he had lost you?”
Naeo shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”
“Did you know that she suffered the most appalling dreams and nightmares, so that people thought she was mad? That Sylas had to watch her suffering, and that finally he saw her drugged and taken away?”
Naeo winced and slowed her step. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Did you know that the last time I saw your anguish, the last time I saw that kind of devotion, was when Sylas told me about his mother? When he told me that the only thing that mattered to him was finding her?”
Naeo shifted uncomfortably. “No, I didn’t,” she said. “What are you trying to say?”
Filimaya turned and looked earnestly into her eyes. “I’m trying to say that his love for his mother is your love for your father, that his search is your search, that your lives are the same life.” She took both of Naeo’s hands in hers. “I’m saying, Naeo, that if you find Sylas’s mother, he will find her; and if Sylas—”
“… if Sylas finds my father, I’ll find him too,” said Naeo, shaking her head. “But how? I’ll be in the Other and my father will be here!”
Filimaya placed a hand on Naeo’s cheek and smiled sympathetically. “I don’t quite know, Naeo. These are the things the Glimmer Myth doesn’t tell us.” She paused, considering her words. “What I do know is that you are both one wonderful whole. Your lives are entwined, and if it is not safe for you to go to your father – as it is not – then Sylas may go in your place.”
Naeo looked deep into her eyes. She wanted to argue, to say that she owed it to her father whatever the risks, and that no one, not even Sylas, could take her place in this. But as she opened her mouth to speak the words failed her. Any way she tried to say it, it just sounded hollow and selfish.
Just then she saw a movement ahead. She peered beyond Filimaya and saw Ash’s lithe figure sprawled on the grassy bank on the far side of the waterways. He grinned at her and waved.
“Do you know,” he shouted, getting to his feet, “it’s taken you two longer to cross this dribble than it took Moses to part the seas!”
Filimaya laughed. “Well, we had the saving of worlds to talk about.” She set out over the last of the streams, drawing Naeo alongside her.
“Funny you should say that,” said Ash, rummaging uneasily in his crop of curls, “because I have something I want to talk to you about. Both of you.”
Filimaya narrowed her eyes. “Really?”
Ash beamed. “Really. I just wondered if you had decided who’s going to go with Naeo? Into the Other, I mean?”
“I don’t need anyone to come with me,” said Naeo sharply. “I’ll be fine alone.”
“Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you both,” said Filimaya, “because—”
“Uh-uh! I’m going. And that’s final!” cried Ash, wagging his finger in protest. “Naeo, where you’re going, you’ll need someone with … resources, someone who knows their way aroun—”
“But you don’t know your way around, Ash,” said Naeo. “You’ve never even been to the Other, have you?”
“Well,