There had to be a way to communicate with him, thought Sofarita.
She was crystal-joined and powerful. It was inconceivable that she could not touch this man. Joined to crystal! That could be it, she thought. He was wearing a belt pouch. Sofarita reached inside it. There were two crystals there. She concentrated on them. They began to vibrate. Viruk felt the movement and, puzzled, drew them out. Sofarita’s spirit hand rested on the first of the green crystals.
‘Can you hear me, Viruk?’ she said. He swung round. “Speak to me,’ she urged him.
‘I can’t see you. Are you a voice of the Source?’
‘Yes,’ she said, thinking that he would react better to that thought than if she announced herself as the village giri he had bedded.
‘I usually hear a man’s voice,’ he said. ‘Still, who do I you want me to kill?’
‘You must find Ammon. Rael needs him.’
‘I already know that,’ he said. ‘I am heading for the city now. Of course the task is a little difficult since I don’t know what he looks like and if he escaped he’s probably in disguise. Are you an angel of death?’
‘No, I have been assigned to protect you,’ she said.
‘Oh, that’s nice. Protect me from what, exactly? I didn’t notice you warn me when the krals were close by.’
‘You needed no help there. Wait here. I shall return soon.’
Detaching herself from him she sped back to Egaru. Ro and Touchstone were waiting quietly in the garden room. She opened her eyes. ‘Have you ever seen Ammon?’ she asked Ro.
‘Yes. Tall man, womanly. Beautiful face.’ Rising from the couch Sofarita crossed the room and took his hand.
‘Show me! Think of him!’
Ro did so. Without another word she returned to the couch and freed her spirit. Using the same technique as she had in finding Viruk she flew east, coming at last to a series of cliffs. In a cave on the eastern slope she found three men: one old, one frightened, and one standing guard in the cave mouth. He was tall and, as Ro had described, had a face of exquisite beauty, with deep violet eyes. Rising into the air she returned to where Viruk sat by the river’s edge. He was hurling flat pebbles out over the water, watching them skim.
‘Ammon is some twelve miles south-east of here. He is travelling with a bearded old man and one other. Close your eyes.’ Viruk did so. Sofarita filled his mind with a picture of the three. He cried out and clapped his hands.
‘The little potter,’ he said. ‘Well, well! I almost killed him, you know. Of course you know. You were there. Are you sure there’s nobody you want killed?’
‘No-one,’ she said.
‘How strange. Usually when the Source speaks to me he asks for deaths.’
‘Not this time. Go and find Ammon.’
‘Can you take human form?’
‘No,’ she said.
‘That’s a shame. I could really use a woman. I get very edgy after a battle. Do I have time to find one?’
‘No! Now go and do your duty.’
She pulled back from him and returned to Egaru.
She opened her eyes and breathed out a long sigh. ‘Viruk is completely insane,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ agreed Ro. ‘All Avatars know that.’
‘How has he survived so long?’
‘He’s rather good at what he does,’ said Ro.
Ammon stood in the mouth of the cave, staring out over the golden cliffs and the distant, shimmering Luan. Tnat morning the three of them had crept along a dry watercourse to the southern wall. They were moving slowly and with great care when they heard the sound of marching feet. Crouching down against the crumbling dirt they had listened as prisoners were brought out onto the flat ground above them. Sadau’s bladder had released and the little man pushed his face into the dirt in embarrassment. Shots rang out. People screamed in agony. For an hour or more the killing continued. Ammon could not see the horror but the sound would haunt him for the rest of his life. He heard children wailing and begging, women pleading for the lives of their young. None were spared. Eventually the soldiers marched away. Ammon pushed himself to his feet and peered over the lip of the watercourse. Bodies lay everywhere, dead eyes staring up at the sun. His gaze flickered over them. And stopped.