Pattern

'Sure,' Boarci said. 'But you'll need to have answers to all these points before you pitch the idea to that lot down there. They aren't going to like it one bit, I can tell you that right now.'

Boarci was right about that, too. The two households listened to Poldarn in stunned silence. On their faces he could see the sort of horrified embarrassment that he'd have expected to see if he'd got drunk and made an exhibition of himself-singing vulgar songs, dancing on the table, throwing up on the floor. Their reaction annoyed him so much that he forgot to be daunted by it.

'All right,' he said eventually, after the silence had gone on almost as long as his speech. 'Here's what I'll do. If anybody can come up with a better idea before dawn tomorrow, we'll forget all about my suggestion and go with his idea. What's more, he can have the farm; I'll give it to him or stand down or abdicate or whatever you want to call it, and he can be head of household, and I'll spend the rest of my life mucking out the pigs. Believe me, if someone takes me up on this, I'll be the happiest man in the valley. You all got that? By dawn tomorrow; otherwise we'll give my idea a go and see if we can make it work. Good night.'

The silence followed him into the bedroom, where Elja was placidly sewing, turning sheets sides to middle. 'Did you hear that?' Poldarn asked as he closed the door.

'Your speech, you mean? Yes.'

Poldarn lay down on the bed, too tired and fed up to take off his boots. 'I didn't mean that, I meant the reception it got from that lot.'

'But they didn't say a word.'

'Exactly.'

'Oh.' Elja smiled. 'I see what you mean. Yes, I heard that. Couldn't help hearing it. If they'd been any quieter, they'd have been inaudible right down the other end of the valley.'

Poldarn laughed. 'They're bastards, the lot of 'em,' he said. 'I wouldn't have minded if they'd shouted at me or called me a bloody fool. But just sitting there like that, it's too cruel for words.' He made an effort, sat up and groped for his bootlaces. 'Last time I try and do anything for this household.'

'Don't be like that,' Elja said gently. 'They're just not used to people like you, that's all. They don't know you the way I do.'

'Oh really' He tried to drag off a boot, but his foot was too hot and swollen. 'Well, no, I suppose they don't. But that's not the point.'

'Idiot.' She sat on the bed and tugged at the boot, without making any perceptible difference. 'I don't think you realise how scared of you they all are.'

That took Poldarn completely by surprise. 'Scared? Of me? But that's ridiculous.'

Elja let go of the boot and stretched out beside him, hands behind her head. 'What makes you say that?' she said. 'To all intents and purposes you're a stranger, an unknown quantity, and there aren't any of those here. Well,' she amended, 'there's tramps and layabouts like your friend Boarci, but we understand them, we know what to expect. You're completely different, and we can't even see what you're thinking. And if that's not bad enough, you do such weird things, nobody knows what you're going to get up to next. Not just that, but you go around telling people what they ought to be doing, when it's not what they know they should be doing; and sometimes, more often than not, you're right. Most of all, you know about the volcano, it's like you can see its thoughts. That's really scary.' She lifted her head and looked at him. 'Do you really mean to say you hadn't realised that?'

Poldarn nodded. 'Of course not. I mean, most of the time they treat me like I'm a kid or something. That's when they even acknowledge I exist.'

'They keep their distance, you mean. Actually, they talk to you far more than they talk to each other, or hadn't you noticed? That's another scary thing, you're always at them, asking questions, like you're interrogating a prisoner. If you were in their shoes, wouldn't you be scared?'

Poldarn thought about that. 'Not really,' he said. 'I might want to smash my face in from time to time, but I wouldn't be scared. Still, I guess I know me better than they do.'

Elja laughed. 'Are you sure? It strikes me that you know you less well than anybody. After all, you've only known you for a few months. Some of these people have known you forty-odd years, off and on.'

'True,' Poldarn replied. 'But I get the impression I've changed a bit since then.'

'Maybe. How would you know?'

'I don't,' Poldarn admitted. 'But anyway, that's not the point. I don't really give a damn whether they're scared of me, or they like me or hate me or whatever; not right now, anyway. What's important right now is doing something about the mountain. Just sitting there as though nothing was wrong-how can they do that?'

Elja smiled at him, quite tenderly. 'You poor thing,' she said, 'you really don't understand. They're scared of you, but they're absolutely terrified of the mountain. It's far more frightening than the thought of getting killed, or anything like that. They know about death, it happens every day, it's one of those things you live with your whole life. But the mountain is new. They've never even heard of anything like it before, not even in stories. And here you are, telling them they've got to go and fight this terrible thing. No wonder they just sat there. There aren't any words to say what they're all thinking right now.'

'Oh,' Poldarn said. 'And what about you, then? You seem pretty cool about it all.'

'Me?' Elja frowned. 'I don't really know, I hadn't thought about it. For some reason, I'm not frightened at all. I'm not frightened of you, or the mountain.'

'Good,' Poldarn said.

'Not really, no. I ought to be. I don't understand either of you. I just know that you aren't going to do me any harm. I know it's all going to be very bad for a while, and this plan of yours sounds absolutely horrible, but it's not going to hurt me. Something very bad is going to happen sooner or later, but not this.'

Poldarn leaned forward, not looking at her. 'You sound very sure about that.'

'Yes,' Elja said, 'I do. It's not a guess or even a conclusion I've reached-I just know it; like you know something you remember, because it's already happened. Does that make any sense to you?'

'Oddly enough, it does,' Poldarn said quietly. 'It's how I felt when we were building this house. I knew we'd be able to do it, because I felt I'd done it before-no, that's not it. I felt like I'd done it already, if you can see the distinction. I'd done it already, so it was already done and so it had to turn out right. The house couldn't not be built because I'd already built it.'

Elja nodded. 'You're weird,' she said. 'I hadn't realised quite how weird you really are.'

'Oh. So that's not how you see this, then.'

She shook her head. 'It's exactly how I see it,' she said. 'I never said I wasn't weird, did I?' She pushed her hair back behind her ears. 'Look at it from my point of view. I get this really strange, crazy feeling, it's so crazy it worries me. And then you say it's exactly how you felt when you were building the house. Now you are beginning to scare me. I mean, we mustn't both be crazy. Think of the children.'

Poldarn laughed. 'I think it's simpler than that. You love me so much you're absolutely sure I'll succeed and the fire-stream will go away. You have faith in me.'

'Oh, sure.' She rested her head on his shoulder. 'I worship you like a god, that goes without saying, I'm practically your high priestess. All you've got to do is snap your fingers and the fire'll crawl back into its kennel like a dog that knows it's been naughty.' A moth whirred past them and started to circle the pottery lamp beside the bed. 'Do you really think it could work, this idea of yours?'

'It could work,' Poldarn replied, 'but if you're asking whether I can make it work, that's another matter entirely. It could work, but only if we get a whole lot of difficult things right. Maybe we'd have a reasonable chance if we'd done it all before and we knew how to go about it. Getting it to work the first time, when we're making it up as we go along; that's a lot to ask, isn't it? We only get one try, after all.'