Mountains are marvellous to look at but hard to travel through, even when just skirting the foothills. Kite paused for yet another break, leaned back against a rocky overhang and squinted into the setting sun, along the road before them. Rectangular shadows caught her eye a few miles down the road, a welcome sight.

“Look,” she said, pointing. “A village.”

“Good,” Saryth said with feeling. “I’m tired of sleeping on the ground. Do you think we’ll hear news of Aeryn there?”

The question jolted her. She hadn’t thought of Aeryn for ages. The short time he’d travelled with them felt like many years ago, not less than half a year. “I don’t know,” she said. “We don’t even know if he came to this world.”

“The gateway was there - right next to the Dunburgh one,” Saryth pointed out.

“We don’t know if he came through. I went this way because we’re following the sun, not because he may have. And two natural gateways so close is very unusual. I hope we’re still on track. But,” and she fumbled for further justification, “I’m not sure Aeryn has anything to do with the sun after all...”

“I know, but I still feel bad about leaving him behind.”

“We didn’t leave him!” Kite snapped. “He left us!” She stared at the road, tried to breathe evenly. I’m so tired.

“I don’t like it either,” she said eventually, standing up to get moving again. “Look on the bright side - if there is a connection, we’ll find him eventually.”

So is there one or not? I don’t even know what I think any more.

The village was a cluster of houses at the point where the road crossed a small fast river. The houses were built of sandy-coloured bricks, well-constructed and with a tendency to share walls which made their outer sides almost like a barrier around the settlement, although there were no other defences. Kite and Saryth passed under an arch into a small square and stopped. There was no sign of life. All the houses were dark and silent, shutters closed. Not even a cat slunk across the square.

“Kite,” Saryth said, unease in his voice, “there’s no-one here.”

“So I noticed.” She crossed the small square and looked down the road to the bridge over the little river. More houses clustered together on the far side, in a similar close configuration. “I wonder...” she mused aloud. “It doesn’t look like anything bad happened.”

Saryth went to the bridge, peered over at the fast-moving water, then straightened suddenly and pointed. “Oh, look, over there.”

She joined him on the bridge, where she heard what he had; voices and laughter came faintly to her ears, then music started playing. It sounded like a celebration. Eagerly they hurried over the bridge and through the houses, and came out on the other side of the village. A copse of trees sheltered the road, and beyond the trees was a clearing lit by a small bonfire and crowded with people. They stood around the edges or swirled in bright patterns around the fire, stepping in, stepping out, swinging round each other. Laughter lit their faces. Kite searched for and found the two people in the brightest garb.

“It’s a wedding feast,” she said. “Maybe we shouldn’t intrude...”

“Oh...” Saryth’s face fell and Kite felt a twinge of guilt. I was looking forward to a proper bed tonight too. But at that moment one of the people standing by the edge of the clearing looked over his shoulder and saw them.

“Oh, hello!” he said. “I see more guests!” He was an older man with greying hair and a broad smile. His shirt sported intricately embroidered floral patterns. He came towards them, holding out his hands. “Welcome! Come and join in!”

“Oh, um, a family gathering,” Kite mumbled, feeling weirdly reluctant.

“Should be enjoyed by all!” The man waved her half-made excuse away. “That’s my daughter got married today. Come and dance for her!”

“Uh, yes..” No way out. As she followed the man back towards the clearing, Saryth caught her arm.

“Kite, I can’t dance,” he whispered urgently, but their host heard and turned back with a grin.

“Neither can most of the guests by now,” he said. “Go on!”

The prospect of dancing on road-weary feet was not enticing, but the table laden with food certainly was. The clearing was full of people, and she could quite easily believe the entire population had turned out for the feast. Seats had been brought for the older folk to sit around the edges, and younger people had spread cloaks and rugs on the ground to sit beside them and watch the dancing. The half-empty dishes and plates on the table indicated most guests had already eaten their fill, so Kite pushed back the persistent feeling of intrusion and helped herself to bread, olives, cheese and tomatoes, cured meat and pickled vegetables which were unidentifiable but tasty. Sitting down with a full plate in cheerful company - even when she didn’t know anyone present - was a welcome relief.

For a while she and Saryth sat and ate and rested, and she watched the dancing. These were line and ring dances mostly, with fast rhythmic music played by an enthusiastic group standing near the fire - two fiddles, a drum and a wind instrument that looked like a cross between a flute and an ocarina. It made a high sweet harmony above the main melody. The dancers paired and swung and separated, skipping and occasionally tripping across the uneven ground. I suppose the squares are too small to take the whole town. As she watched, the logic of the dances began to make sense, and some of them were almost familiar from her own people. The music made her tired feet twitch. She cast a look at Saryth, who was also watching the dancing. He wore a wistful expression. Of course, he wouldn’t have joined in anything like this before.

Maybe it was the sudden switch from weariness, wariness and hunger to cheerful companionship, rest and food that made her impulsive. Maybe it was the music, starting on a tune that was eerily familiar. Maybe it was Saryth’s expression and her own desire to join in. Whatever the reason, she acted on the impulse, stood up and held out her hand to him.

“Come on, then,” she said. Saryth stared at her. “It’s not hard!” she encouraged him, and he stood up slowly, folding his cloak and laying it behind him on the bench. She took his hand and pulled him into the crowd, forming a ring for the dance. Some people had already started the moves, and she followed them, stepping in and out, then stepping around her partner as he watched, uncertain.

“Like this,” she said, repeating the steps for him. “See?” He followed her example, stepping in time with the beat, relaxing into the lively rhythm as he got used to the steps. Other pairs in the ring were swapping partners and ad-libbing extra steps, but plenty of people were sticking to the plain version and they worked alongside each other. Back and forth and turn, in and out, clap hands, spin each other round, laughing, and back to the beginning again, buoyed up by the rhythm and the beat and the crowd around them. The music swirled into a crescendo and then finished with a triumphant chord, and Saryth laughed out loud in exhilaration. Something inside Kite relaxed, something she hadn’t even realised had been tense, and she laughed too.

Three dances later they returned to the bench along with a crowd of people who had noticed that a promising barrel was now sitting on the food table. Kite sat down, stretched her legs out in front of her, her feet now aching in earnest, and sighed happily. “I haven’t danced for too long.”

Their host came and sat down beside them, holding out two mugs, presumably full of whatever was in the barrel. “I never asked your names,” he said. “I’m Andas.”

“Kite.” She took a cautious taste of the liquid. It was sweet and alcoholic, something like watered-down mead.

“Saryth.”

“Thanks for joining in,” Andas said. “The more people at a feast, the better the luck.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Kite said. That explains a lot.

“Is there an inn here?” Saryth asked.

Andas smiled. “You can stay with us. My daughter’s off to her wedding house with her boy. They’ll be hiding there as long as they can. Three days at least, though it should be more. Me and her ma managed six!” He grinned in happy memory. “So there’ll be a room free, if you don’t mind sharing.”

“No, not at all. Thank you very much.”

The disadvantage of staying with the family of the bride was that they were the last to leave. The party broke up after the happy couple headed off - this was supposed to be done in secret, Kite gathered, but it was the kind of secret that everyone knew about. Ten minutes after everyone had pretended to look the other way, Andas announced that he couldn’t see his daughter and new son-in-law any more, and the whole crowd went through a pantomime of searching for them for all of five minutes without even leaving the clearing. After a bit more play-acting from him, his wife Breida, and the family of the groom, the musicians put their instruments away, the bonfire was doused, the food carted off by various villagers, and Kite and Saryth, now tired beyond endurance, followed Andas to his house. His daughter’s room was a small one with a single narrow bed, a pretty rag rug on the floor and a large, heavy chest at the foot of the bed.

“You have it,” Saryth said, meaning the bed. For some reason, this rankled.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Kite said. “You take the bed.”

Saryth scowled. “I don’t want it!”

“Well, neither do I!”

“Fine!” He started undoing his shirt collar. Kite turned her back hastily, but he didn’t undress, just rolled himself up in his cloak and lay down on the floor next to the bed. Kite glared at his back.

“Fine!”

Saryth woke up feeling almost as sore and stiff as he had the night before, if not as cold. Stupid, stupid. Did Kite at least sleep on the bed? He looked over and saw to his horror that she was dozing sitting up, leaning against the wall.

“Did you sleep like that all night?” he blurted.

“What?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Oh,” she shook her head woozily. “No, I woke up just a few moments ago.”

“Right.” He gave her a dubious look. Her cloak was on the floor by the foot of the bed, near where she was sitting. The bed was untouched. She did sleep on the floor, then. His irritation of the night before was a child’s stubborn mood seen in the morning light. He looked away, embarrassed, which Kite took as her cue to get dressed. Saryth straightened his tunic and tied back his hair, feeling grubby and uncomfortable.

After breakfast they bid thanks and farewell to Andas and Breida. Kite set out walking through the village, her expression preoccupied. Confused, Saryth hurried after her.

“Kite? Aren’t we going the wrong way?”

“I’m sorry, Saryth,” she said. “We have to go back.”

“What?”

“No!” She clenched her fist and shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that!” She turned to him, her face worried. “Will you help me?”

“Yes, of course. Kite, what is it? What’s wrong?”

She started walking again and he followed. After a little while, as though she’d needed time to get her thoughts in order, she started speaking.

“I had a dream last night,” she said. “It was a message dream. That’s how we send important news across worlds. When I went home, I filed a report on Dunburgh. Its location, the gateway and the situation - that is, Vorannen. I... didn’t say anything else.” She heaved a sigh and glanced at him, then continued. “They were going to send a Watcher, someone like Pyetr and Tiana. To keep an eye on the gateway. But then, last night, the dream... warned us all to stay away from Dunburgh. Because Vorannen is experimenting with the void.”

“Um...” Saryth couldn’t work out where to start with his questions.

Kite stopped walking, both hands clenched on her staff, eyes tight shut, her whole body tense. “He’s trying to get out!” The words escaped despite her control. “And he knows how and where.” She looked up at him and there were tears in her eyes. “Because we showed him the way.”

“Won’t your people do something?” Saryth reached out to steady her, but she started walking again. He hurried to catch up.

“No, they don’t know he knows where to look for a gateway. We don’t normally interfere, but - they don’t know what he’s like! He’ll get into Setharye... and the new Birchan gateway is so close! This is a hub world. He can’t miss the hub gateways if he gets in here.”

Saryth knew what she meant. Back when they’d first come through the new gateway from Setharye, he’d felt the lines of power, all pointing west to where Kite said the great hub gateways were set up, much like the feel of the wind. He got used to it, but it was always there at the edge of his awareness.

“So what can we do?”

“Destroy the gateway,” Kite said, stopping and turning to face him. “He knows where it is because it’s the one where we got caught. If it’s gone, he won’t know where to look. But I can’t pull apart a natural gateway myself.” She looked searchingly at him, then dropped her gaze. “So will you help me?”

“Of course I will.”

Two days of walking and two uncomfortable nights later, they stood in Setharye again, by the gateway into Dunburgh. The air was warmer here than in Birchan, and Saryth could feel the tension between the two gateways, not unlike the pull of the hub gateways. Almost as real to him was the longing for Rian’s comfortable inn and tasty cooked food. So close! He looked at Kite, who was staring at the space where the gateway would open, were they to open it.

“So... what do I do?”

“You have to dislodge the anchors,” she said. “It’s hard work. Can you feel the structures?”

Saryth tried to feel them without using his hands, but gave up after a few moments. Nobody else was around, so it didn’t matter if he looked stupid. He reached out his hands and shut his eye, trying to feel the structure of the gateway. It was woven into the world, but he could feel the extra heft where the magic ran, the underlying link to Dunburgh and where that meshed into Setharye. He imagined hooking his fingers around those threads. “Yes.”

“Hold them and pull.”

“Right.” He leaned back and the magic pulled taut. Pyetr can say what he likes. This magic is definitely in my hands. Muscular strength would do nothing, but he couldn’t stop himself physically straining even as his mind pulled at the tight weaves of magic which linked Setharye to Dunburgh. But there was no give, no way for him to pick apart the weave, no way to unbind the link. Eventually he gave up, as exhausted as though he’d been trying to uproot the nearby tree with his bare hands.

“I can’t. It won’t budge. I’m sorry.”

“I was afraid of that,” Kite said. She’d been silent while he struggled, keeping an eye out for passers-by, although they were not near the path. Now she came back to stand near him.

“What’s holding it?” he asked.

“Natural gateways are usually well-anchored. Especially recent ones like this. They take a lot to dislodge.”

A lot of magic. It was a pity Setharye had comparatively little magic, although up to now he hadn’t really noticed the difference. Dunburgh had had a lot more, at least where they’d been. Which was the other side of the same gateway. He stood up, brushing himself down, and steadied himself on the tree, slightly dizzy. “How about from the other side? There was more magic there.”

“No.” Kite’s refusal was instant. She looked away and scowled.

“Why not?”

“You would be too tired to open another gateway immediately. You’d be stuck there for three days with soldiers around.”

“But -”

“Soldiers who will be on alert for a white-haired, one-eyed sorcerer!” she snapped, glaring at him. “It’s too dangerous!”

Saryth held her gaze for a moment before she turned away, grimacing. “Kite,” he said, trying to speak gently, as though to a wary animal, “why is it important to destroy the gateway?”

“Because Vorannen knows about the void and knows where this one is.” She spoke clearly, without looking at him, but he could hear the misery in her voice.

“And why is that bad?”

“These worlds are vulnerable. Because of us. My people. Our activities. And... they won’t do anything if he does come.”

“And?”

“And it’s our - my - fault he knows! If not for us...” She hunched over, gripping the staff as though it was the only thing holding her up.

“Open the gateway,” Saryth said to her back. She started in surprise and turned back to him.

“What? But -”

“Vorannen must be stopped,” he said. “It’s important. We can evade soldiers for a day or two. Open it.”

“You,” she said, then paused, shook her head, swallowed tears. “Why do you still trust my judgement?”

“Because I understand your reasoning.”

Kite shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the gateway.

Despite his words, Saryth felt a chill go through him as he stepped back into Dunburgh. There was no reason for him to be wary. Nobody was around, no active magic for miles. The birds had stopped singing when they appeared, but there was no sign of anyone else. Certainly no soldiers. No trace of anyone dangerous at all. On edge, still listening, he waited.

“I don’t hear anything,” Kite said eventually. “Go on.”

Saryth knelt down and reached out, felt the woven links of the gateway once again, hooked his fingers into them and pulled. He concentrated on one weave, one link, pouring all the magic he could into it, prying and digging and yanking. His muscles cramped and ached - so much for this being non-physical - but he could feel the weave much better now, even feel its vulnerability to his assault. He doubled down, and the weave stretched, and stretched, and then - snapped! The gateway shuddered and disintegrated, the worlds falling away from each other. The proximity of Setharye was gone as though it had never existed. The fabric of the world - Dunburgh - rang like a bell, reverberations tolling through his head, shivering his sense of self in a profoundly disturbing fashion. Released, he fell backwards onto the forest floor.

“Saryth!” Kite hurried to his side.

“Is that it?” he asked. If it’s not, then -

“I think so. I certainly felt it go. Can you stand?” She held out a hand, and he rocked forwards onto his knees and reached up to take it. He felt shaky and uncertain.

“Yes,” he said, hoping it was true.

“If I felt it,” Kite said, “so will every sensitive for miles around. We need to move. Here, lean on me.” She put her arm under his shoulder and secured his hand on the other side.

“Where are we going?”

“It doesn’t matter. Anywhere but here.”