From the crest of a long ridge, Highbones and the others heard howling behind them at the same moment they could look down on the stretching barricade of trees. The sound behind them was almost gleeful For a time it stayed where it was, yammering. Highbones and the others did not remain where they were. As they ran, however, the sound grew nearer, coming on their trail. Highbones ran faster than he had known he could, hearing the thump and pant of Steeplehands and Long Bridge close behind him. The other two had fallen back. They had shorter legs. Little Bridge was still a kid.
“Wait,” yelled Ropeknots “Wait for us.”
“Wait, hell,” breathed Steeplehands, drawing slightly ahead.
Their feet hammered on the ground as the howling neared. Behind the leaders came one scream, then another. Whatever was chasing them stopped for a moment. Highbones and the two close behind him did not stop to see what it was.
In a moment the howling started again Though it came very swiftly, it had not caught them by the time they splashed through the shallow mire at the edges of the forest. They stopped only when they came to the first deep pools gleaming with oily reflections in the dying of the daylight.
“Now what?” Long Bridge demanded. “You want to go wading in there?”
“Not likely,” said Highbones. His eyes were fixed on vine-draped trees towering from liquid depths. “Not likely.” He laid a hand on the nearest vine and asked, “Will he climb?” as he swung himself up, feet pushing him along a spiraled vine-trunk and onto the first branch above their heads. “Will he?”
They stopped halfway up to look back the way they had come. The grass moved ominously, but there was nothing there to see. Of Little Bridge and Ropeknots, no sign. They waited, then Steeplehands said, “They’re deaders, Bones, lust like on the towers. No different than that.”
The three exchanged glances, then lofted themselves with the ease of long practice, moving effortlessly into the heights.
In his private quarters at the Friary, Administrator Jhamlees Zoe sought among a miscellany of papers for the packet which had come from Sanctity, from his old friend Cory Strange. He had sealed it up and hidden it to keep it safe from prying eyes. Now that he had seen Mainoa’s book, he needed to read the letter again.
The packet had a security wrap on it, and Jhamlees had to stop several times to remember the proper sequences to prevent the thing from going off in his hands and taking his face with it. All this nonsense. Well, what was the office of Security and Acceptable Doctrine to do with itself, back there on Terra, if it did not engage in these senseless exercises. Coded cover letters. Explosive wraps.
Once he had burrowed his way into the packet, Jhamlees skimmed the pages, reminding himself that he was expected to inform his old friend if anything at all were discovered on Grass, Jhamlees referred to the enclosed itinerary with a pout of frustration. Much though he would have liked to seal his former friendship with the Hierarch, there was no point in attempting to send word about this Mainoa matter. The Hierarch was already on the last leg of his journey to Grass.
Jhamlees folded the letter and thrust it into his pocket. No more need to keep it. He’d dispose of it later. The rest of the packet— twelve pages of sanctimonious hash and the publicly announced itinerary of the Hierarch—could be left out where anyone could see it.
Advance word or no advance word, when the Hierarch arrived he would expect his friend Nods to know anything there was to be known. Mainoa had written as though those at Opal Hill knew something, or as though he, Mainoa, knew something. Question: Was there a cure? That’s what the Hierarch would want to know! Brother Mainoa had gone off somewhere, so he couldn’t be asked until and unless he was found. That left the only other one who might know. Roderigo Yrarier. Not even one of the Sanctified! A heretical Old Catholic, no better than a pagan!
Elder Brother Jhamlees summoned Yavi Foosh. “Find out where Ambassador Roderigo Yrarier is now. Arrange for me to visit him.” Yavi shuffled his feet, staring at the floor. “Well?”