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Laura gripped Gidds' hand at this latest discovery, and his feed showed he glanced at her rather than the ripples in the water. He was enjoying their reaction to Areziath as much as the walk itself. But then he helpfully indicated the direction the otters had headed, and seemed as interested in them as he was pleased by the expression on his daughters' faces as a sleek brown head popped out of the water almost at their feet.

It took all of two hours to reach the first of the structures dotted along the winding path: a rambling house, almost lost beneath a mass of creepers, and a pavilion structure that sat separate, in the point section of a large, teardrop-shaped island.

"Lunchtime," Sue said firmly, and headed for the pavilion.

It was a splendid meal. They spread picnic blankets, shared out dishes, and talked theories—the Setari taking turns to stand on guard. Alay told them some of the details they could not see: the depth of the water, the hidden channels that ensured that there was a cross-flow in places that might otherwise lie stagnant, and the silting that blocked many of them. There was a big push to allow more visitors, but also a counter movement to simply recreate Areziath elsewhere if people wanted to trail about it.

Gidds somehow managed to maintain his upright posture even while sitting cross-legged on a blanket, with a cluster of pink, trumpet-shaped flowers dangling an inch above his head. His daughters imitated him with the ease of long practice, and Laura, noticing her own back was very straight, consciously adjusted her posture. She would never fully understand how a man could be so quiet, and yet have such an impact on those around him. Even Julian was less sprawling than usual.

But it was not an uncomfortable atmosphere, and Laura watched him being happy, while they sampled all the food. Each household had brought a contribution to the picnic, so there was plenty to eat. The cookies were a success.

"Places ending in iath definitely mean city, right, Lira?" Sue was saying. "Yet this place can’t possibly be intended for a city’s population."

"But it is very big," Lira pointed out, with some surprise. "That makes it a city."

"I’d call it a town surrounded by a water park. I wonder whether the otters are local, given that they occur around Pandora as well. Perhaps this was started off as some kind of wetland specimen collection? There’s certainly a massive variation of plants."

"Can we explore the house, Dzo?" Allidi asked.

Gidds shook his head. "The research teams have so far catalogued without removing objects, and do not want the interiors disturbed. You can circle the outside of it, if you wish—or take a half-kasse to explore the island. The site map shows areas of use."

Laura hadn’t even thought to look for an interface map, and guessed that areas of use was an oblique way of pointing out a set of bushes that had been designated as a latrine area. There she found that the interdiction on building at Areziath did not mean you could not send in floating kiosks containing roomy bathrooms, and so she would not need the trowel she had thoughtfully packed—and could even take a hot shower if the notion struck her. The researchers likely didn’t want to introduce an accumulation of human waste to a sensitive site. Or Tarens didn’t think much of squatting over a hole. Either way, Laura was grateful for unexpected luxuries.

The island was large, and overgrown enough that when Laura emerged she could not see a single person. Walking to the nearest shore, she settled on a convenient rock and—after sending Sue a suggestion that she check out 'Howl’s Perambulating Pottie'—searched the water for more glimpses of otters.

A charming blue and black duck presented itself instead, swimming along the channel and nibbling at waterweed. Laura promptly added it to a collection of scans she was building as a gift for Rye, who—thanks to a stream of subtitled BBC documentaries provided by Cass—idolised David Attenborough, and diligently catalogued every plant and animal he encountered.

There were quite a few birthdays to prepare for. Sen’s was very soon, and Lira’s fourteenth. And then it would be not so very long before Tyrian turned one—by the Muinan calendar. By Earth reckoning Tyrian would be one much sooner. Laura would have to–

With a muted plup, the blue and black duck vanished. Pulled under. Frozen, Laura stared at the spreading circle of ripples, not sure whether to leap away. It was all too easy to picture something drawn by her movement, exploding from the water in a tentacular frenzy.

Pond weed. Ripples. Nothing.

Laura relaxed, and then murmured: "Et in Arcadia ego."

"Tsa Devlin?"

Laura turned to find Allidi and Haelin dividing their attention between her and the water.

"I was just wondering whether I should move back," Laura said, hoping she hadn’t painted herself a coward.

"There’s no directed threat," Allidi told her.

"Good to know," Laura said, and then gestured to the rock next to hers, glad for a conversational opener that was less inane than asking if they liked being Kalrani. "I don’t really understand Combat Sight. Can you sense all living things, or only those that want to hurt you?"

"Neither," Allidi replied, neatly arranging herself on the rock. "It is an awareness of potential danger."

"Things like worms and most bugs don’t register at all," Haelin added, plunking herself down beside her sister, but then making a habitual adjustment to a more arranged posture. "Things that can’t hurt you, really, and don’t want to."

"Whatever is there is a predator," Allidi said, indicating the now-still water with a faint lift of her chin. "It’s not aware of us, and probably would not ordinarily attack creatures our size, but it registers to Combat Sight because there is a potential for danger."

"If we splashed our feet in the water it might bite them," Haelin interpolated. "But it’s not going to leap at us."

"Combat Sight tells you all that?"

"It’s like coloured static, but without noise, and you can’t really see it," Haelin explained—not at all helpfully.

"Something not very dangerous and not interested in us—one of those birds—is barely there," Allidi added. "A grey haze that is hard to even notice. If we made it angry somehow, and it decided to attack us, it would be yellower and a little stronger to see, and we would feel it as a directed threat. Something that could be dangerous, but isn’t interested in us would be a green—the more dangerous the easier it is to see. If it decided it wanted to attack us, it would become yellow, and sharper." She paused apologetically. "Those are words to give you some idea. It’s not really colours."

"The shape of the experience, but not the taste," Laura said, with a wry smile. "What about if, oh, the pavilion we had lunch in was cracked, and was about to fall on our head. Would Combat Sight notice that?"

"No, it could not have any potential for intent," Allidi said.

"We’d probably see that with Sight Sight, though," Haelin said, shrugging. "What did you say about Arcadia, before you noticed us?"

Laura paused so she could phrase the words as correctly as possible in Muinan. "Even in Arcadia, there I am."

Most Muinans would probably meet this with blankness or mild confusion, and Haelin did precisely that, but Allidi straightened, delicate brows drawing together, and after a distinct pause she said: "Death?"

Sight Sight truly was remarkable. "Has—do you know the meaning of Arcadia?"

"Gelezan," Haelin said.