Diana couldn’t hear the engine, but its purr went as a subliminal quiver through her bare feet, and she did catch a faint gurgle from aft, the turbo drive at work. Speed was low, as ponderous and heavily laden as the hull was. At first traffic teemed, everything from row-boats to hydrofoils, but as Paz fell behind, the river rolled open, a brown stretch two kilometers wide from bank to forested bank, rippling around snags and sandbars, only a couple of barges and a timber raft under tow in the distance ahead. Quiet descended, and a measure of coolness. Flying creatures darted and skimmed, light amber on their wings.
Never before had Diana seen so far over the horizonless world. Ahead of her, the river and its valley went on. As that view grew ever more remote, they dwindled, shrank together, became at last a shining thread between burnished green darknesses; yet still she could see them. Whenever an opening appeared in the woods brooding on either side of her, she likewise looked across immensity. Left, the green lightened as forest gave way to prairie that eventually blurred off in haziness. Right, beyond foothills, she glimpsed toylike snow-peaks, the mountain range that warded off the glaciers of the Daedalan ice age.
The sinking sun kindled a sudden gleam far and far ahead. Why, that must be the ocean! Diana’s pulse quickened. Vapors made the disc golden-red, softened its glare till she could gaze directly. It spread itself out until it was a great step pyramid—and out and out, stretching to become arcs of luminance curving north and south around what would have been worldedge on another planet.
There was no real night. Day slowly turned into a glimmering dusk, shadowless, starless apart from brilliant Imhotep and a few scattered points high overhead. She could easily have read by the light, though the range of vision contracted until everything beyond three or four kilometers—except Paz and Aurea behind her, a couple of villages before her, aglow—faded vaguely into dimness. Gradually sunshine became a complete ring. It was broadest and brightest in the direction of Patricius, a little wider than the disc by day. There it shone orange in hue, with a muted fierceness of white underneath. It narrowed and reddened as it swept away, until when it had closed itself opposite—some while after it had begun to form—it was a fiery streak. The sky near the ring went from pale blue sunside to purple darkside, shading toward violet at the zenith; below, the ring enclosed a darkness which was the planetary bulk.
Presently the moon Icarus rose in a confusion of silver which coalesced to a half shield as it climbed.
The forests ashore were full of shadow, but the river sheened like mercury on its murmurous course.
Diana did not reckon up how long she stood rapt, watching the hours unfold. When the deck shivered beneath hoofs, and a bone-deep basso rumbled forth, she came back to herself with a shock like falling off a cliff.
“Ah, a beautiful, incredible sight indeed,” said Axor. “What an artist the Creator is. This experience might almost justify our making the journey we are on.”
Misgiving pierced Diana. “Almost?”
“Why, I fear ours is a bootless expedition. I have been in the saloon, speaking with person after person, crew and passengers, including the two humans. None can attest to any objects that might be Foredweller remains. One did bespeak large ruins under the northern mountains, but another, who had actually been there, said they are remnants of a Terran mining operation, abandoned centuries ago when the ore gave out.” A sigh boomed. “We should have stayed on Imhotep and completed our investigation as planned. Now we are confined on Daedalus for an indefinite time and … I am no longer young.”
Guilt took her, however lightly, by the throat. “I’m sorry.”
Axor lifted a hand. “Oh, no, no, dear friend. I do not blame you in the least. You urged upon me what seemed best to you in your—your impetuosity. Nor do I pity myself. That is the most despicable of emotions. I should not have let you rush me into taking this passage. My mistake, not yours. And we are seeing wonders along the way.”
Diana braced herself. “We may even find what you’re after,” she said, as stoutly as possible. “These are just regular river travelers aboard with us, and, uh, one outworlder. In Lulach we’ll find people who get around more on this planet.” She hesitated. “A Zacharian, maybe. That island is mysterious. You’ve talked to me about how the Ancient relics on Aeneas have influenced the whole culture of the settlers. Could something like that be on Zacharia?”
“Well, we may hope.” A bit of cheer lifted in Axor’s tones. “ ‘And now abideth faith, hope, and charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity,’ ” he quoted. “Yet hope is no mean member of the triad.”
Again she hated what she was doing to him, and wondered whether the need could ever justify it. She knew so little thus far. She had in fact, she realized, acted on faith—faith in Targovi—with hope for adventure and accomplishment, but damn small charity.
She squared her shoulders. Maybe some Daedalan place really did hold something for her old pilgrim.
Axor stretched luxuriously, an alarming sight if you didn’t know him. “I thinking, before going to bed, I would like a swim,” he said. “Do you care to come along? I can easily catch up with the boat when we are finished, and carry you with me.”
For a moment Diana was tempted. To frolic in yonder mightily sliding current—But she had no bathing suit, and didn’t want to risk the men aboard seeing her nude. They appeared decent enough, in a rough-hewn fashion. However, after the incident in Paz, she’d rather not give anybody the wrong impression.
More important, she suddenly and sharply realized, here was her chance to talk to Targovi. “No, thanks,” she said in a haste that drew a quizzical glance. “I’m tired and, uh, I want to watch this spectacle more. Go ahead. Have fun.”
The Wodenite undulated over the rail. It was astonishing how gracefully he could move when he chose. He entered the water with scarcely a splash. Suffused light shimmered off his scales and spinal sierra. His tail drove him cleanly away.
Diana glanced aft. A Cynthian lookout perched atop the bridge, within which the pilot was occupied. Neither was paying her any attention, nor would they overhear low-voiced conversation. Everybody else had gone below; most of them were used to the magical ring, as she was not. She pattered over the planks.
Behind the after deckhouse, an awning had been stretched to shelter the cage which held Wo Lia’s performing beast. It cast a degree of darkness over Targovi. She saw him as a shadowy figure rhythmically astir—exercises, to keep in condition while imprisoned. She hunkered down.
His catlike eyes knew her instantly. “Aaah, s-s-s, at last,” he breathed, and crouched to face her. “How goes it, sprite?”
“Oh, I’m all right, but awful puzzled, and poor Axor’s terribly discouraged,” she blurted. “What’s goin’ on, anyway?”
He changed his language to Toborko, in a monotone which lost many nuances of that most musical tongue, but which would seem to a casual passerby as if the animal were crooning some weird song while the human, curious, listened.
“Well deserve you what explanation I can give, O valiant child, the more so when I shall belike call upon you to render services and take hazards such as neither of us can foresee. Vast are the stakes in this game, but the rules poorly known and capriciously changeable.