She didn’t hear him. Kicking the tree with both feet, she let go of the rope and he watched her fall, and she watched Diamond while she fell, hitting the landing with her legs bent and a smooth little pop at the end, jumping once before stopping beside him.
The little monster grunted and backed up.
“Go away,” she told it.
Orange fur rose, trying to menace.
The girl made biting noises, pulling her long black hair over her head, mimicking the monster’s gestures.
The animal retreated, leaping up on the railing before snarling at its tormentor.
She laughed at it. “Silly monkey.”
Diamond watched both of them.
“How do you know him?” she asked.
“I don’t know him.”
“Well, he knows you.” She stared at Diamond, fascinated. “He thinks you’re going to protect him.”
“We fought,” Diamond confessed.
“When? Today?”
“He was inside my house. “
“You lost the battle, didn’t you?”
He preferred not to say. “He was eating our food.”
“You can’t let monkeys indoors. Wasn’t your house locked?”
“I guess not.”
The girl was shorter than Diamond, but she had a longer body carrying strong arms and shoulders. Her mouth was wide but with little lips, and she had a fabulous long nose, and something about the spacing of her eyes and the shape of her cheekbones was pretty. Diamond watched her face and grew even more nervous.
Lifting the big curtain, she looked at the door. “It’s open now.”
“Yes.”
She studied his eyes, his mouth. “You do live here, right?”
He nodded.
“Diamond?”
“Yes.”
“That’s your name. I remember. I’ve heard about you.”
He felt shy and strange. Self-conscious about his tiny hands, he put them behind his back.
“Why are you outside?”
“I’m looking for someone.”
“But you can get sick outside.” Her voice became even quicker. “You were born weak. People say. What are you doing outside? You could catch some bug and die.”
“I don’t think I will,” he said, halfway confident.
She didn’t talk.
When he looked at her eyes, she said, “Elata.”
“What?”
“My name is Elata.”
He repeated that name.
“I like your voice, Diamond.”
He didn’t respond.
“Looking for who?”
“What?”
She didn’t repeat the question. Putting her face closer, she said, “Everything about you. Those eyes, your whole body . . . it’s all just a little different.”
“Is it?”
“Don’t you know?” Her hand jumped. As if it had its own mind, it grabbed him at the elbow, and he flinched and she let go again. “Shouldn’t I? Was that bad?” Guilt and worry came bubbling out, but her curiosity remained undimmed. “Does that bother you, me touching you?”
“No.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Diamond.”
Nobody but his parents and the doctor were allowed to touch him. And he never saw the doctor anymore. “I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I hope so.” The big laugh returned. “I live just up there, by the way. I live with my mother.” Her arm and a self-assured finger pointed the way. Each landing was a rounded platform supported by timbers. Dozens of landings were hanging beneath the mists. Exactly where she was pointing was a mystery, and then her arm dropped. “You haven’t seen my bracelet, have you?”
“What is a bracelet?”
“It’s copper and round, about this big.” One hand drew a round shape around the other wrist.
“I don’t think so, no.”
“With an Emblem of Luck.”
He shook his head.
“Somebody will find it. Don’t worry.” She kept watching him, laughing. “We moved here eighty days ago.”
He said nothing.
“From the Baffle District. Near Suss-and-Hope.”
He was waiting for words that made sense.
“I heard all about you,” she said. “My first day, when the neighbors brought us gifts, people told us about you and your parents.”
With a quiet, hopeful voice, Diamond asked, “Have you seen my mother?”
“No, she didn’t come to our party.”
He puckered his mouth, frustrated.
“Oh, you mean since then. Yeah, I’ve seen her. A few times, I think. I think.”
That answer wasn’t helpful either.
“How old are you?” Elata asked.
“Nine hundred and eighty-three.”
“You seem older.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m twelve hundred and ninety-five days old.”
He could think of nothing to say.
“I haven’t seen your mother. Not for ten or twenty days.” The broad shoulders went up and down. “Why? Don’t you know where she is?”
He said, “No.”
“She’s not inside your house?”
“No.”
The girl blinked and blinked again. “I don’t understand. She’s always here. She’s the one who takes care of you.”
He dipped his head.
“When did she leave, Diamond?”
“We talked last night, just before I went to sleep.”
“Well, I bet she and my bracelet are lost in the same place.” Elata started to laugh and then thought better of it. “Stay here,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because I’ll get my mother and come back. We’ll figure out what’s going on. Okay, Diamond?”
“Yes,” he agreed.
The dangling rope was close enough to grab. The girl started to climb the magnificent tree, eating the distance with the long arms, vanishing onto one of the higher landings.
Diamond was crying again, just a little. He didn’t know this girl, but now she was gone and he felt more alone than ever. So he looked at the monkey perched on the railing, watching its face grimace as it deftly and with great seriousness pooped into the open air.
Diamond kept forgetting what was happening, what was wrong. Stepping to the end of the landing, taking his first long look at the world, he foolishly began to ask his parents what he was seeing. His mother was beside him. Father was behind them. He couldn’t imagine those people being anywhere else. He wanted someone to answer the questions that kept rolling from his mouth: “What is that? And those? And that?”
But no one was here to explain.
The landing was built from long timbers once painted blue but now returning to bare blonde wood. The railing was head-high and flat, pegged into place on stout posts, dozens of thin vertical boards partway filling the gaps. But if he wasn’t careful, a boy would fall through. Cautiously approaching the edge, Diamond grabbed the railing with both hands, standing on sandals and toes, his stunted chin resting on the weathered wood. Marduk was behind him. Huge expanses of air lay before him, and a bright silvery column full of motion and thunder stood in the distance. The column was water. The busy water had begun its plunge far overhead, from inside the persistent morning mist, and it rumbled and roared as it passed, kicking out breaths of vapor that swirled in the bright warm air while the heart of the column fell on, vanishing inside another band of mist and rain-born clouds.
Insects hung in the air, some alone, others dancing together. The largest swarms moved like great bodies, gathering up close to each other, turning dark before racing off again. A monster insect suddenly dropped from above, wings longer than Diamond’s arms, the narrow body built from spheres and cylinders with the jointed black legs tucked beneath. Humming like a spring-powered toy, the monster used those bumpy bulging eyes to search the world for a feast worthy of its rapacious mouth.
“Hello,” Diamond said softly.
The hunter pivoted and dove from sight.
A flock of usher birds arrived, coming from several directions to form a loud happy flock. Maybe a hundred colorful bodies swirled in a one-minded mass. Diamond watched them, trying to understand the manners of the flock, but just as he seemed to be anticipating what would happen next, the flock dissolved. The ushers flew away on a dozen important courses, leaving single birds and several pairs chattering even louder about some vital, left-behind matter.