Maddock looked up at the blue sky and saw the first high tendrils of cloud streaming across its brightness. If the rains did not come that day then they would come in the night, and the fortress would doubtless be glad of their relief. He could feel the oppressive unease that smothered the Enclosures, and he knew it was not just the day's dense heat that was causing it. Every pen was occupied by an ill-tempered male madriel, and the place was filled with their growls, and by the constant loud cracking of their horns as they vented their frustration on the thick wooden bars that caged them.

If the aggravations of the Pride were so palpably fierce, they were nothing compared to the seething anger of its High Madriel-master. Even the most senior Madriel-masters were wary in the face of Sprak's rage as he stomped about the place, cursing at everything, from small perceived deficiencies in his staff's work, to the stupidity of the Order's Commanders for having the Pride confined with the rains so imminent. They had already been penned for two days, and as the skies grew darker in the north, so did Master Sprak's mood. Maddock was thankful he had been given permission to get away from the Enclosures and their High Madriel-master's snarling menace.

He and the other Field-hands had been working without rest since the previous day, and in that time they had found out nothing about why the Order was gathering its forces. Many rumours and wild speculations had been flying around all day, but the Masters would confirm none of them, so when Master Dramut granted him the afternoon's reprieve, he decided to go up to the Workshops and see if Dak knew anything. He was fairly certain that she would know less than him about things, but it would be nice to get her logical view on what it all meant.

Even the shade of the barbican-fort's gateway offered little respite from the heat, though the two Forge-guard, in their heavy tragasaur hide armour, seemed untroubled by it. The larger of the two was almost three metres tall, his thick hair streaked with grey. The knuckles of his hand, which rested on the head of his double-axe, were disfigured by the welts of old scars, and his wide chest was covered in rank-bolts.

He watched dispassionately as Maddock approached, but then his dour features split in a wide grin.

"Well if it is not being Dakskansia Padrid's little friend, the Madriel-master."

"Not a Madriel-master yet, Harev."

The huge guard bent down to regard him more closely, his grin remaining wide.

"But soon, I would not be surprised to find, the way that Tomova's daughter is recounting your successes."

"I ain't really got started. I know Dak means well, but I've not really done anything yet."

Harev straightened up and scratched his thick greying beard.

"Well yours is not a job that I envy you for having and good luck, I say, to anyone that can be doing it."

"Well, thanks, er, speaking of Dak, can you get a message to her so I can get an invitation to come in?"

"I am afraid that is a thing that I cannot be doing."

"Oh," said Maddock.

"Dakskansia is not within the bounds of the Workshops."

"Oh," said Maddock again, his brows creasing.

"But I am knowing where she is. She has gone north to the river with her friend, the little Order girl. She said that they were going shooting. You may catch them if you are being quick enough."

"Don't know if I really want to, but okay. Thanks Harev."

Maddock didn't know what to do with himself then. He didn't really want to find Dak if that girl was with her, but he did wonder if the stuck up little brat might know something about what was going on. She was Commander Kralaford's daughter after all.

With a resigned sigh, he left the shadow of the barbican-fort and returned to the glare of the sun.

* * * * *

Tahlia pulled the bow string back, released in one smooth motion, and smiled as the arrow thumped into the calcified wood of the beam-tree beside the others.

"I do not like lying to father," said Dak from where she sat, her back resting against the trunk of a second tree, which had long ago toppled over and shattered.

"You did not lie to him."

"But I did not tell him that we were going to be coming out here!"

"Yes, but you did not tell him you were not coming out here."

"But I did not tell him the whole truth of the matter."

"See!" said Tahlia brightly. "You are catching on. I never tell my parents where I am going. That way, they cannot forbid me to go there."

Tahlia reached over her shoulder and selected another skull arrow.

"I do not know," said Dak "It is hard enough for me to be spending time with you already."

Tahlia nocked the arrow and pulled the bow cord back to her cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it is father. He does not really like me being with you. He was always a little unhappy with you being my friend, but since you have started coming into the Workshops uninvited he is becoming quite displeased with our friendship."

"What!" said Tahlia, sounding indignant. "I am the daughter of a Pride-commander of Klinberg. How dare he dictate who I am allowed to be friends with!"

"He thinks that you will be getting me into trouble."

"The cheek of the man!" said Tahlia.

She released the arrow and it thudded into the distant tree.

"Are you really sure it is safe to be out here?"

"Stop saying that, Dak. Of course I am sure."

Dak lifted her head to look out over the surrounding tall grasses. She could hear the ripple of the river that marked the northern edge of the Territories, and a little way to the east, on a higher rise of land, she could see one of the wooden watchtowers that ringed the farm where Maddock had lived before he moved to Klinberg. The sight of it only increased her apprehension.

"But this is the great-bailey! We should not be here, and no one knows that we are. We should at least have been telling someone. What if something bad is occurring?"

"I told you, Sir Galder's scouts are all away, and their steeds with them. There is absolutely nothing to worry about." Tahlia turned around and looked over her shoulder. Dak craned her head to see what she was looking at. There seemed to be nothing of interest, except for a cherossa, standing on a nearby grassy rise. "How are you at climbing trees, Dak?"

"I do not know. I have never had cause to be climbing a tree. Why are you asking?"

"No reason," said Tahlia as she reached for another arrow.

Dak glanced towards the north, where thick grey clouds had been amassing over the mountains for the past weeks. Now those clouds were black, and the sky above her was turning an ominous yellow-grey.

"Should we not be getting back?"

"Do not worry. If it starts to rain, we can run back. It is not very far."

Dak had a different opinion on that. It had taken a good deal of effort for her to simply walk from the fortress in the day's thick heat. Running back there did not seem to be an attractive option.

Tahlia held up her fine curved bow. "Would you like a go?"

Dak gave another quick nervous glance to the north.

"I do not know."

"Come on, get up," said Tahlia, unbuckling the thick bracer from around her wrist. "It is very easy."

Dak got reluctantly up from the meagre shade of the shattered tree, and Tahlia loosened the buckles on the bracer to fit it comfortably onto her arm.

"Let me see your fingers," she demanded.

She took Dak's right wrist and looked carefully at the tips of the first two fingers on her hand, which were thick and calloused from working in her father's workshop.

Seemingly satisfied, Tahlia handed the bow to Dak, who took it tentatively. It was a fine hunter's bow, made of light flexible metal and pliant wood, short and ideally made for firing from the back of a racing madriel.

Tahlia went to retrieve the arrows from the old beam tree, and after giving a brief instruction on how to hold it correctly, she took one of them and showed Dak how to set it onto the bow cord.

"Aim for that tree there," she said. "It is a little closer."

"All right," said Dak warily.

She aimed carefully and pulled back the arrow. She took a deep breath and let go.

The bow cord thrummed into the wrist bracer and the arrow spiralled away, dropping into the grass a few disappointing yards away.

"Never mind," said Tahlia, running to retrieve the fallen arrow. "Have another go, but pull back further this time. Give it some power."

"I do not know whether I should," replied Dak. "It feels as though I might break it."

"You will not break it."

Tahlia helped her to nock the arrow again.

Dak pulled back and sighted at the tree Tahlia had indicated. It still looked too far away to hit.

"Further back," said Tahlia. "Do not be so scared."

Dak pulled the bowstring back as far as she could. The bow gave an ominous creak.

"Do not break it!" shouted Tahlia, rushing forward.

In sudden panic, Dak released the bow cord. It thumped the wrist guard again, but this time the arrow flew high into the air, arcing way over the tree she was supposed to be aiming at, and continued to rise into the bruised sky, before it started its fall towards a distant glimmer in the landscape.

"It is heading for the river!" said Tahlia.

"Sorry!" said Dak.

Tahlia grabbed the bow off Dak and hurtled off after her arrow.

"Come on!"

Dak followed, clambering over the pieces of fallen beam tree in an attempt to follow the small agile figure of her friend. As she set off, a few heavy drops of rain began to fall from a sky that was filling quickly with thick slabs of grey.

* * *

Tahlia reached the river bank first and Dak arrived a few minutes later, breathing heavily.

"Over there," said Tahlia, pointing to the centre of the river where a large, domed island rose, its rounded flanks covered in scrubby bush and spreading weeds.

Dak peered over Tahlia's shoulder at the island.

"Are you sure? I cannot see."

Tahlia sat down and started unlacing her shoes.

"I can see better than you. It is over there; just above that old wood."

Dak looked again.

"There!" said Tahlia irritably, when Dak showed no sign of seeing it.

She pointed again to where the tattered curve of the island ended in a jumble of odd shaped rocks, which were tangled in a chaos of river-weed choked driftwood and thatched by low spreading scrub.

Dak continued to peer across the river, through the rain, which was starting to fall with a regular drumming on the earth.

Tahlia finished pulling off her shoes and jumped down onto a rough crescent beach, where the dry earth of the plains had slipped away into the river.

"Can you swim?" asked Dak nervously.

"It is not deep."

Tahlia pulled the hem of her dress up above her knees and stepped into the river. The water ahead of her surged and dipped smoothly, as though hiding a deep pool, but the river was narrower downstream. A buttress of moss covered rock protruded from the island, out into the river to form a rounded bay where another unruly pile of driftwood had gathered. Another rock, covered in the same red moss, stuck out from the bank opposite the buttress, and the river was barely more than two metres wide between them. But the water flowing through the gap was fast and fell beyond in a sudden series of waterfalls, which tumbled through more mossy rocks. Looking upstream, she saw that the water near the rounded tip of the island, where the river was wider, moved slowly over its bed, and she could see rocks sticking through its surface, edged with white foam. She walked upstream and found, as she thought she would, that the river there was shallow.

The rain had now become a regular hiss that pitted the surface of the water. Tahlia looked up at the advancing clouds, looming in the northern sky. At their edge lay the coloured bands of a rainbow, weak and watery against the approaching blackness.

"Look, Tahlia, I am sorry about your arrow," said Dak. "But is it such an importance? We should be going back!"

"Mother says you should take care of your arrows, the same way that a knight looks after his sword," said Tahlia as she waded out into the river, the water pulling at her knees. "Anyway; I will only be a minute."

It did not take her long to reach the island's narrow shore, and once she was there, she began looking around for her arrow. She clambered upwards over the piles of fallen driftwood, her hands soon becoming slippery and coated in dead and broken bark. Water was running in thick rivulets from the island's summit, bringing with it flotsam from the undergrowth; dead leaves and sticks and clumps of red moss. She tried to take her bearings and remember where she had seen her arrow lying, but close to, and in the thickening rain, the surface of the island looked all the same and moved constantly from the running water.

She was about to turn and climb back down to the beach when the rains really started. It was the noise that she noticed first. The regular gentle hiss suddenly turned to a slow bellowing snarl, then she was hit with a sudden weight of water, which chilled her instantly and put all thought of anything else from her mind. She slid down towards the beach, accompanied by streams of water that now slipped in torrents down the island's sides. The rain seemed a solid coldness around her, whipping at her head and shoulders, and the thin dress she wore gave no protection.

Peering out across the river, she could see Dak as a dark watery blur on the far bank, hunched over against the rain and peering back across at her.

"Tahlia!" came her voice over the hammering of water, pitched with panic.

"I am fine!" Tahlia shouted. "I am coming back."

Tahlia looked at the river, which had undergone a dynamic change of character since she had stepped out of it not five minutes before. As the rains struck the hardened earth of the plains, running off direct into the river, they carried with them a stain of dark soil. The deeper pool directly opposite the beach had turned into a broiling pit of muddy water. The shallows where she had crossed had turned to a grating torrent. The rocks sticking from its surface no longer looked soft and rounded, but instead gave the impression of hard black teeth waiting for the opportunity to break the bones of her body.

She edged carefully out into the river and instantly felt it snatch savagely at her feet. She looked up to see Dak ahead of her, at the wild river's edge.

"Go back, Tahlia!" she yelled. "It is not safe!"

"I can make it!"

Tahlia edged forward another step, but as her foot left the support of the river bed, the water caught it instantly, pulling it away from her so that the only way to regain her balance was by falling onto her hands and clinging to one of the black rocks under the foaming surface of the water. Her hands were instantly frozen, and she noticed suddenly that her feet and legs were similarly icy. In the still heat of her first crossing of the river, she had not noticed the coldness, but now her hands, arms and legs felt as though they were being cut by a thousand tiny knives.

She somehow managed to get her feet under her, but she could barely feel the river bed with her frozen toes, and as she tried to stand she found the current too strong. The only way to move was to walk herself sideways, still with a firm grip on the rock, while the water cascaded around her legs and elbows. She flung her hand back and forth through the water in search of another rock further out into the river on which to balance, while her legs barely held her in the rushing of the water. After a few seconds flailing, she finally found another purchase and edged further into the river.

It was hard to see in the thickness of the falling rain. There seemed to be plenty of rocks poking through the surface, their blackness surrounded by the white rushing foam of the water, but the cold had seeped into her so deeply that she began to shiver uncontrollably. Every time she moved an arm or leg, she could feel the weakness in her other shaking limbs.

"Tahlia!" shouted Dak, her voice sounding drowned and far away.

Tahlia lifted her head, her neck now shaking and her teeth a constant chatter. She had come closer to Dak than she had thought, and now all that lay between them was a stretch of smooth fast flowing water from which not a single rock broke the surface.

"I can't get any further," she said through a jaw clenched tight to stop her teeth from chattering. She dared not move for fear that her limbs would collapse under her and send her tumbling into the water to be torn away downstream.

"Help me!"

The beach below the collapsed river bank where Dak was standing had disappeared under a rush of dark water, and her friend was standing, seemingly riveted, staring into the broiling torrent.

"All right," Dak stammered. "All right."

She sat down and began to unbuckle her heavy boots.

"Dak! What are you doing!"

"I am..." Dak looked down at her boots and then back over to her, in the middle of the seething water. "Oh, yes, right..."

She stood again and came back to the river's edge, where any resolve that she possessed apparently failed her.

"Tahlia, I do not think that I can!"

Tahlia, still shaking to her roots, saw Dak standing far away above the river's bank. She could not move a single limb. It seemed as though they were frozen to the rocks that they gripped with fingers and toes which had lost all feeling.

"Help me, Dak!" she called, her voice sounding weak in her ears.

"I cannot, Tahlia. It is so fast..."

Dak's last words were lost as chill water slapped over her face, filling her ears. Tahlia realised that the river was slowly rising, the water bubbling around her armpits and thighs, and splashing over her neck.

She looked up at Dak, still watching from the bank.

"Dak!"

Suddenly, a new sound joined the rest of the tumult. It was a deep rushing noise, and as Tahlia turned to look over her shoulder, she saw a thick line of whiteness in the river, spreading from bank to bank and racing inexorably downstream.

"Oh, Tahlia. I am sorry!" moaned Dak.

Tahlia crouched, frozen and paralysed as the high wall of water rushed towards her, growing in height as it came, the sound of it getting louder and sharper in her ears. It tumbled over itself, boiling and thrashing at the already turbulent water in its path, and broke against the rounded tip of the island, sending up a double tongue of spray and scattering broken driftwood. The spray cracked back down, sending out lashes of water that cascaded over Tahlia's head, breaking her from her shock.

She leapt without thought from her crouch, and hurled herself across the gap of fast flowing water between her and the bank. The last thing she saw was Dak's scared, horrified face, before the wave struck, slamming into her side and engulfing her in cold darkness, bearing her down into the deepness of the river.