Looking back (and, technically, down) as they fell past cloud after cloud, Cindy could see no ground in sight and- considering that they were falling -she wasn't quite sure whether to be relieved about that or not. Then a bolt of lightning narrowly missed her elbow and she knew to be afraid. Looking ahead (or up), she saw a flock of Porcs- brawny creatures with the noses of pigs and the wings of bats -letting out a collective, boar-ish "screee" as they descended upon the duo in earnest. In their monstrous eyes, there was no malice- only hunger. Not wanting to be made into a Porc roast, Cindy turned to Guardian, saying...

Where is this pet of yours?

She made an attempt at shouting though she wasn't sure if she was actually being loud. Fortunately, the Guardian could hear her even through the Porc-ish noises and the usual, piercing wizzing and wooshing that came with free-falling; and he had also been wondering the same thing. Looking round the sky for any sign of his creature, his grip on the girl tightened and fear overtook his grief. Then, through the cacophony, he heard it. And he felt quite braver for it.

Brace yourself! Come on boy. Better late than never.

As even more spells came within a finger's length of murdering her, Cindy looked and saw something unseeable smash through the pursuing flock from behind, scattering the Porcs in its wake. And although she still could not see it, she felt it approaching her and then going over her head and then settling just ahead of Malachi before all the sky and all their pursuers vanished at once. It was as if everything her mortal senses knew had been false, and all the world about her had been merely designs on a tapestry curtain. And then, it was like that curtain had been pulled apart and she had been dragged into a boundless void with neither sound nor scent nor sight. It was like sleep in that she could not have told you how long she spent there. She later knew that it was less than a minute but it could have been hours or years and she wouldn't have known the difference while there. Indeed, everyone who sleeps visits there but in a different way and by a different road.

Then, something else happened. And it happened with all the vaguery and ease of waking up after a good night's rest. Cindy found herself on the other side of a new curtain- though she couldn't quite say when she had gone through it. As swiftly as breathing or blinking, she came upon a new stage with a different setting than the one before; and this stage was a great forest shrouded in mist, home to many little creatures. When last she shut her eyes, she was in the sky beneath Stallion's Rest. When next opened them, she was in the Moat surrounding Tolemac. She was also very tired and very shaken, and so the questions of glassical arms and the Guardian's pet slipped her mind completely and she was simply glad to be alive.

The Guardian had landed swiftly on his feet. And the landing had been powerful. The fall had been so far, and had lasted for so long, that the impact could only logically result in the shattering of bones or the ground- and the Overseer armour made sure it was the ground. Near the instant of the landing, the ground itself cracked and dented, and all the trees immediately around them became bent. The mist surrounding them cleared a little before the cloud-ish tides came back to fill the space. And there was no loose leaf, stick or stone within arm's reach. The armour too seemed less itself- no longer new and beautiful but aged and cracked.

Believing all to be well (as far as well could be said), the Guardian let the glassical Who shatter, leaving his Who-ish self in its place. And though there was a shatter, Cindy felt neither cut nor scratch in her whole person. In fact, from their scattering on, none of the glassical shards could be felt nor found.

The Guardian made no hurry of parting ways. Not even after she unwrapped her legs from his waist and let her feet touch the ground. Not even as she loosened her arms from around his neck and lifted her head from his shoulder. Even then- especially then -he did not let go. He was not sobbing or panting. In fact, he was rather silent. His grip was not very tight. In fact, it was rather gentle. And all this made her want to renew the tight hold her arms had been entrusted to. She could feel his knees buckling and, as she did, she recalled the agreement between brother and sister.

I'll be with you as soon as it's done.

And then she became nearly as afraid as he had been- though there were still many reasons for his fear that she could not yet know. She didn't even fully understand her own reasons, but they haunted at her all the same with phantom voices saying...

You can't hold on forever.

Watch me

...either you give it up or it is yours forever...

That's not what she meant.

His sister said that people were dying.

Why should I care what she thinks? She is nothing to me.

You saw them. With your own eyes, you saw their bodies fall.

And how many could he save? He is only a boy, no older than I! If he goes, won't he be just another body?

For the Underground!

For the Underground.

He is an Overseer. He isn't yours to keep.

Neither is he theirs to take. He wants to stay. Can't you feel it?

Even my life is not my own.

But he has to go.

All my tomorrows are forfeit.

I'm not losing him again.

When did you lose him before?

Haven't you known him a week?

I don't know.

Yes you do.

Didn't you hate him before?

No I didn't.

Yes you did.

Since when was he yours to lose?

When he first gave you his word?

...this will forever be the best night of my life!

Didn't you ask for that? You didn't lose him then.

You sent him away.

No!

When did you lose him?

When he left the Hall of Psalms?

When he took ill and didn't wake up?

When his stock went to find prospects elsewhere?

When he gave you away at the grave of stillborn Ellie?

When he learned that you were a mute?

Is that why you're so scared?

Silly girl!

If I would be helpless...

Stupid girl!

If I would be silent...

Cowardly girl!

You think you'll be alone forever?

Stand by your fellows, I dare you!

No. Much worse.

For once, fight!

Never alone. Always grieving.

Fight!

Always at the breaking of fellowship.

Fight!

Is "goodbye" the only word of mine that everyone hears?

She said none of these aloud, instead pondering them in her heart. With each passing line, her grip on the boy grew tighter and tighter until she could bear it no longer and, in a feat of strength and raw reluctance, she shoved him away- onto the ground -before running off into the mist. He made chase, of course, and yelled after her in her absence. But he was still burdened by that ache which Cindy knew little about at the time. It gave her the advantage, as it had done among the Trees, and let her run away- further and further into the wood of the Moat. And as she ran, the sound of the Guardian yelling after her grew ever fainter and she became less and less certain as to whether or not the silencing was good to her. Drowning in the deafening drumming of her own tell-tale heart, Cindy heard from the two voices remaining to take sole command- each ruling from a single ear.

The first whispered in her right ear- behind her green eye -saying...

Delight in the silence. He has gone to join the fray. Though you had not enough strength to send him away with words this time, you've sent him away by your deeds. In seeing your movements, he has believed that you wanted him gone. And he has obliged, as before. Delight in his going to be a hero. Isn't that our reason for running?

The second whispered in her left ear- behind her red eye -saying...

What is this rubbish? Isn't he pursuing? Slow down and give him a tease before he loses track of you and gives up. Let him run after you until the battle is over. Be lost in the woods together until the skies are safe. Find him but don't let him find you. Play with him here as you did amidst the Trees. Isn't that our reason for running?

Then the discussion came to a screeching halt. And the screeching came from her revolting legs- who did not want to be pushed on any further. Then and there, since Cindy was sure enough that she was alone, she stopped and so reached out aimlessly until her hand came against the wood of a very tall and very thick tree. She laid down against it and tried to silence again the ever-returning, ever-intrusive thoughts which beat against her temple according to the maddening rhythm of unnumbered metronomes- all of them broken, none of them in agreement with any other.

And as she sat there, panting, with her head buried in a pillow of her crossed arms lifted up by her knees, ants began to crawl from the tree trunk onto her shoulder and down her arm. Then she felt the very sharp sting of a bite on the back of her palm and she jumped up with a yelp and panicked as she looked round herself to see all manner of creepy crawlies apparently studying her. She wobbled about as she wiped and scratched the creatures off of her person. And the next thing she knew was that her ankle had come against a branch and she was now falling beyond the mist down someplace very deep.

Smith!

For her fall, she let out a very loud "hyyeeeeaaaaa' which the wind carried past branches and mists and leaves directly to the Guardian. He followed the trail the sound had left behind, leaping over all manner of pits and trips which the Moat had laid out for unsuspecting wanderers. In truth, he may very well have overshot her had she not heard the most recent of his many shouts of "where are you?" and given a very loud "down here!" in reply.

Are you alright?

More than! Get down here!

And so the Guardian was relieved. That said, he was still quite sceptical of her request. All he could see in front of him was a wide bed of mist where no trees grew and, after a test, he could tell that if he took a step forward, there was nothing for his feet to land on; at least not within a safe distance (his armour was not yet ready to be summoned again).

Hurry up!

That did it. Being a smitten twelve-year-old boy, the Guardian took the mighty leap over the edge, and through the bed of mist, and straight down along a mighty cave until, at last, he splashed into a great pool of water where Cindy was waiting and laughing. When he landed, she could hardly stop laughing to keep the water from going in her mouth. The whole time she had been yelling at him from below, she had no way of knowing he had heard her since he forgot to give a reply. But when she saw him falling and splashing she was far too happy at the sight to think of anything else. And so the red eye claimed its victory.

They were in a sort of cave with an open roof that reminded Cindy of the rings of the bifrost room. Only, instead of a glowing, heart-shaped, pool at the top, there was a blanket of mist- the very one she had earlier seen from the top -hovering over the opening like a very large cloud. It only appeared to be mist on barren land on account of it having no ground immediately under it. Below the mist on the roof, there was no mist. In all the cave, the air was as see-through as clear glass. The cave itself was very large with a rough and winding slope leading back to the surface of the Moat from an opening on the eastern wall. The pool was courtesy of a waterfall which flowed down from the western wall which itself drew water from a place then unknown.

While in the pool, Cindy was the first to throw a wave; it was in response to the great and terrible splash from the boy's impact. And, being a twelve-year-old, Guardian responded in kind. This, unsurprisingly, led to an escalating series of tit-for-tat splashes that went on until enough fun had been had for the two to remember that they were very tired. With what remained of their strength, they swam to shore and realised, at last, how uncommonly warm the cave was compared to the rest of Tolemac and, at the same time, how they had left the shadow-black cloak behind in the water. At once, Guardian called it to himself and, with it, dried his clothes beneath its warmth. And his clothes did need drying since the waters there were hardly the waters of Stallion's Rest. Later, when all his clothes were dry, he handed it to Cindy who wrapped herself with it and so dried her own clothes with its toasty current. And as they waited for their clothes to be dried, the Guardian took the free moment to find privacy and repair his mask by his wand. When his rosey-lenses had been restored, he rejoined his fellow and turned to appreciate, with her, the little country they had just discovered.

The opening on the roof- the one covered by a blanket of mist -was not even an eighth of the whole ceiling and the pool was little under a sixth of the whole floor of the cave. Beyond the pool's edges was a beautifully arrayed dish of grass and flowers and shimmering stones and gemstones which fed the appetite for wonder with remarkable, palatal precision. All of the land more than a handful of paces from the pool was dry save for the bit just behind the waterfall; the pool stretched out far enough to the waterfall's left, right and front to protect the lands in those directions.

Though the sun only came through the misty skylight, and a little down the winding slope, the cave itself was never very dark since, among the many gemstones, there were the kinds of precious jewels that glowed when faced with shade and shadow and night. Yet, the jewels were never so bright that you couldn't look directly at them at their brightest. Rather, theirs was a soft glow in the manner of the rear ends of fireflies. The total effect of all its features made the Guardian (who had long thought Ardusk the dullest of Realms) amazed at the hidden world. And Cindy noticed the look at once since it was rare and did not even show itself in the presence of the majesty of Stallion's Rest.

It is quite a wonder isn't it?

To think that such artistry has been kept hidden out of fear for a little mist.

It's not the mist they fear. It's the not-seeing, I reckon. I imagine that being blind in the wild is generally a very dangerous affair

Perhaps. But it is their loss, in any case.

On that I agree. Methinks that the Tolemacans are not solely to blame, is all.

Who then?

That fear has kept them from her beauty is true. But it's not as if Mother Nature has not hidden herself. She has masked this sweet fantasy beneath the thick of a mist. Others can hardly be blamed for not appreciating something they didn't even know existed.

And Mother Nature has her reasons, surely. On consideration, I wonder if the founders would not have ruined the place at once. Would she not have been stripped of her gems and flowers, and left alone and naked and violated?

But you would not do such a thing.

I hope not. But I am not yet who I could be.

Who would you like to be, Guardian?

A gardener.

For this she had no response but a meek and mild-mannered smile. And the conversation petered out. Only the steady and constant thrashing of the waterfall against the pool kept the silence at bay. And so, as they sat, they simply listened to the cracking.

Then Guardian made the smallest of movements and Cindy flinched for fear of his leaving. She saw that the wonder of the cave was already beginning to fade on him and in its place, the roaring of faraway skies beat against his back until he was slouched over and his gaze fell to the floor. And so she spoke, for better or worse.

I'm sorry about your uncle.

He wasn't actually my uncle, you know. But umm... He was-

He was your stock in every way that counted. I know.

She said this with Tom and John Smith and Minnie and, especially, Anna in mind and so found herself resting her head on his- little more upright -shoulder as her fingers locked with his in an intimate hold.

He was very brave.

That he was. And very funny too.

Nothing.

Still nothing.

Always nothing.

Every conversation petered out as soon as it started. Indeed, the Guardian could not bring himself to talk and she could not bring herself to force him. For to him, to converse would be to admit to staying- or wanting to stay. Yet to leave...