Sherath sat on the top of the rocky outcrop, watching the sun rise.

– Are you coming down, or shall I come up? asked Sienne's Voice.

– Which would you rather? he answered.

– What's the view like from up there? Sienne asked.

– Pretty good.

– Then I'll come up. There was a pause of a few seconds. You must climb like a cat, said Sienne. Sherath smiled to himself.

Sienne's head and hands appeared over the edge of the outcrop, the gusty wind blowing her mane of dark curls around her face. She hauled herself up over the edge, sat beside Sherath, pulled a short strip of hide out from a pocket and bound it round her head in an attempt to tame the unruly hair.

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" she asked him with a wry smile.

"Not much, granted," he said. "How awake are the rest of them?"

"Nemeth and Tarke are still dozing. Everyone else is up and about. Jevann wandered off somewhere by himself before I was up, and the little ones are still working on carting soil to the grave house. Louka and Jekavi are cooking breakfast."

"Now that does sound like a good idea," said Sherath, getting to his feet and stretching.

"You mean you dragged me all the way up here just so we could go back down again?" asked Sienne.

"Nobody dragged you, Little Sister," replied Sherath, holding a hand down to her to lift her back to her feet. "It was your choice, remember? What did you want me for – or did you just come up to admire the sunrise?"

"The little ones wanted to know whether we're moving on again today. They could do with a rest," Sienne added.

"And they sent you to ask me?" Sherath asked.

"Not exactly. They want to know; you don't always seem that approachable; I knew that they wanted to know, so here I am." She looked up into his face.

– What's troubling you? she asked.

– The idea that I could seem unapproachable, he said. That's not supposed to be the way it is. Do you ever feel like that about me?

– Not really. I came to find you, after all. It's not that you're 'unapproachable' – just that you're ... preoccupied, perhaps, is the right word.

– Preoccupied I can accept, said Sherath. But not to the extent that any of you would actually rather not come and find me if you need to speak to me. Just out of curiosity, how does Jevann seem to you all, at the moment?

– I can't answer for everyone, said Sienne with a laugh in her Voice. But 'preoccupied' sums him up pretty well, too. What exactly is going on?

– That could be exactly the question that's preoccupying both of us, answered Sherath with a grin.

– Oh, very cryptic! said Sienne, scrambling backwards down the first part of the rocks. I warn you, though, it's getting to the stage where we all need some answers. Or, if not answers, at least to know what the questions are.

– That can certainly be arranged, said Sherath, climbing easily down behind her. But you may have to wait until Jevann reappears – in this instance I know rather less than he does.

***

Jevann looked across at Sherath. The smaller Children settled down into positions of alert anticipation.

"Well?" asked Sienne, looking from Sherath to Jevann and back again.

– Sienne 'needs to know', said Tarke, affectionate laughter in her Voice. There were chuckles from the other Children.

Jevann raised an eyebrow at Tarke. ­– Tarke, dear friend, Sienne's 'need to know' may well be part of one of the most important patterns there is. Not necessarily today, or this year. Don't ask me when, or why, its.... his Voice tailed off as he looked up at the wisps of cloud – all that remained of yesterday's thunderstorm.

– ... just a feeling, Louka finished for him.

Jevann laughed. – As always. Just a feeling.

– And Jevann's 'just-a-feelings' are as important as Sienne's 'needs-to-know', said Sherath, stretching stiff shoulders. "I am very tired," he added.

"Lack of sleep," said Sienne, grinning at him.

Sherath laughed. "Not entirely."

– You reinforced all those Detours last night, said Tarke, strictly on Sherath's mental wavelength.

– I did indeed. We're going to need them.

"So when are we moving – and where?" asked Sienne.

"We're not," said Jevann. There was a quiet chorus of cheers from the smaller Children.

"How long are we staying?" asked Louka.

"Who knows?" said Nemeth. "More importantly, though, why are we staying?" he looked across at Jevann.

"Who knows?" echoed Sienne. Jevann reached across and cuffed her hair playfully. "Less of the disrespect, little one! I can still best you in a wrestle!"

– I wouldn't wager on that one, said Jekavi, looking across at his brother with a smile. Sienne bends the rules beyond all recognition.

– Hark who's talking! said Jevann. You and Sienne are worse as a pair than the sum of its halves.

– They always were, said Louka. Trouble, mischief, you name it!

– Alternatively, said Sherath, looking across at Louka with a twinkle in his eyes, ... ingenuity, creativity, determination, focus, planning, cooperation ....

– All good stuff, agreed Tarke.

"If we're staying," said Jekavi looking appraisingly around him, "there's work that needs to be done here. Roofs that need to be rebuilt; stocks that need to be re-stocked..." he got to his feet. The smaller Children stood up and clustered around him expectantly.

"Off you go, then," said Sienne. "I'll fill you in on the details later."

"Aren't you coming with us?" he asked.

Nemeth gave a shout of laughter. "You have to be joking! When there's something that can be found out by staying here?"

"I take your point," said Jekavi. "Come on then, little ones. Let's play 'make a home'."

– And that will keep them occupied for quite some time, said Louka. Meanwhile, we share Sienne's 'need to know', Jevann. So tell us.

– Refill my cup, dear heart, and I might just consider it, replied Jevann, holding the wooden mug out in Louka's direction, lying back down and settling himself comfortably.

"This has something to do with someone we have never met," said Sherath. "But someone Jevann has 'seen' more than once."

"Many times," agreed Jevann. "It first began some twelve or so years ago – when we were up in the Far North. With dreams – more specifically, mostly one dream, often repeated."

"I gather it's been the same dream for all those twelve years,' said Sherath.

"Mostly," agreed Jevann.

– Show us? suggested Sienne. Take us into the dream?

– It's not pleasant, said Jevann.

***

.....The girl was running down the side of the road, her breath catching in her throat, the night air burning her chest, and tears on her cheeks cold in the wind of her passing. The footsteps behind were gaining on her with every step.

She knew that the dragon would get there – but would it get there too late?

– Hold on, hold on.... keep going, I'm on the way... just hold out a little longer... the dragon's voice was within her mind, yet as clear as if it were singing in her ears.

She felt a rush of air around her, as if driven down by mighty wings, as the man's hand closed on her flying coat, dragging her to her knees...

The Child woke, screaming.

The mother was suddenly beside her, cuddling her, and the Child's terrified screams settled into sobs.

"Oh, Gwynnie, sweetheart, it's okay, it's all right, Mummy's here, darling," the mother crooned into the Child's ear, stroking the damp hair away from the Child's face. "It's all right, it was only a nasty dream. It's all gone now,"

"The dragon," whispered Gwyn, eyes still fixed on something only present in her imagination, "the dragon..."

"It's all right, darling, the dragon's gone away." The mother looked up as the father sat on the bed beside her.

"Nightmares again, Kate?" he asked.

Kate nodded.

"Why didn't the dragon come, Mummy?" asked Gwyn.

"It was just a dream, darling. The dragon's gone away."

"But it was a good dragon," wailed Gwyn, bursting into fresh tears. "It was going to make the man go away. It was the man that was nasty, not the dragon! Why didn't the dragon come, Mummy?"

"The dragon will come next time, sweetheart, if it's a good dragon. It can be your own special dragon, to chase the nasty dreams away," said the father. "Would you like a drink? You're all hot and sticky."

Gwyn nodded. "Hot Ribena, please," she said.

"Not too hot, Jeff," warned Kate.

"Okay. On the way. Mummy will stay with you while I go down to the kitchen."

Gwyn heard the sound of Jeff's footsteps on the stairs, the kitchen door opening, and almost immediately the soft pattering gallop of Sukey coming upstairs.

"Oh, Sukey!" came Jeff's voice from the kitchen.

Sukey jumped onto Gwyn's bed, snuggled up close to her, licking Gwyn's chin and purring frantically, paws kneading the bedcover. Gwyn's arms went round the cat automatically, holding her close.

"Can Sukey stay with me, Mummy?" she asked.

Kate stroked the long tabby fur. "Okay, darling. Sukey can stay with you tonight."

Jeff came back into the room.

"Here you are," he said, holding out the cup. "I'd better take Sukey down before she scratches you. We don't want any more nasty dreams, do we?"

"I want Sukey," said Gwyn, one hand holding the cat, the other holding the cup.

***

Louka looked across at Jevann, troubled.

"I see what you mean by 'not pleasant," she said quietly.

"And that bit's only her nightmare," said Jevann. "Her own reality is even less pleasant."

"She exists?" asked Nemeth, resting his knuckles against his lips.

"She exists. I'm sure of that," said Sherath.

"Absolutely," agreed Jevann.

"How old would you say she was, there?" asked Tarke.

"Four, maybe five, summers, perhaps," said Sherath thoughtfully. "In normal terms," he added.

"Certainly not much more than that," said Louka, recalling the image of the Child.

"Poor little scrap," breathed Tarke.

Sienne threw a small rock with some force against a larger boulder. "And the reality? Her reality? How much have you seen of that?"

"Only little glimpses," said Jevann. "Things she remembers when she wakes up from the nightmare. That's the only time I can ever see bits of that, before I wake up myself."

"Who's the man who chases her?" asked Louka. "She knows who he is, doesn't she?"

"Oh, she knows," agreed Jevann. "I first saw him as a boy, not a man. His name is Bobby." He took a deep breath. "He is seriously not a nice boy. Are you sure you want to know more?"

Sienne look across at him, scowling. "I hate him already," she said. "But I'd like to know why."

"It's because the Child hates him already," said Sherath.

"With good reason," said Jevann. "You haven't seen this one, I think, Sherath."

"I've hardly seen anything," said Sherath. – You're the one who 'sees' things, he added with a smile.

***

The cat was curled up on the bed close to Gwyn. It laid its ears back at the boy, and growled softly. Bobby raised two fingers to it, peering into the room to locate the hamster cage on the dressing table, then cautiously tiptoed across the room. Sukey got to her feet, crawling across Gwyn's bedcover, tail twitching, ears back. She growled again. Gwyn stirred, restlessly.

Bobby opened the cage door, feeling for the food bowl, and deftly extracting a sunflower seed. He held it towards the hamster, which had stopped running in the wheel. Hammy pattered across the cage, used to being hand-fed, and took the proffered seed, sitting up to munch it. Bobby found another seed, putting it on the cage floor, then made a grab for the hamster as its nose dropped towards the seed.

"Gotcha!" he whispered. He took the hamster over to Gwyn's bed, and sat down. Sukey backed away from him, the growl almost constant now.

Gwyn stirred again. Bobby grinned, holding the hamster up in front of him, fingers tightening round it, feeling the tiny heart fluttering.

"Hey, Gwyn," he whispered. "Look what I've got." He prodded the lump that was Gwyn under the bedclothes. "Look, Gwyn."

Gwyn's eyes opened, sleepily, half focused on Bobby.

"I've got your bloody hamster, Gwynnie. And you know what? I can't read my book because of the bloody noise he's making. I think it's time he shut up, don't you? He got out, you know – and Sukey's up here, isn't she? Cats eat hamsters, Gwynnie – didn't they tell you that?"

Gwyn's lower lip started to tremble.

"Don't you whinge," said Bobby, leaning towards her, dark eyes glittering. "You want me to call Dad up?"

"No," whispered Gwyn. "Put Hammy back – please, Cousin Bobby? Put Hammy back." Tears trickled down her cheeks. She sat up, moving away from Bobby, hugging her knees.

"What, so he can carry on making that row? You're joking!"

Bobby lifted the hamster in front of his face again, looking at it. He grinned, lifted the hamster to his mouth – and bit, hard. He felt the tiny skull crunch between his teeth.

Gwyn screamed. Bobby dropped the hamster, wiping his mouth on his pullover sleeve, and grabbed at the cat, tabby fur coming away in his hand. Sukey yowled, clawing at Bobby's hand.

"SUKEY!" screamed Gwyn. Sukey freed herself and ran under the bed. Bobby dropped to the floor, picking up the hamster as he heard the sound of his father's feet thundering up the stairs.

"What the hell's going on here?" asked Uncle Paul, bursting into the room.

"The hamster got out," said Bobby. "The cat got it – I couldn't catch it in time." Uncle Paul looked down at him. Bobby held out his hand. "She scratched me – I took it away from her – but it's dead."

Gwyn's screams, thin now, almost drowned his words. Paul gathered the child into his arms, cuddling her.

Bobby sucked the blood off his hand, looking at the scratches.

"Okay, okay," whispered Uncle Paul, stroking Gwyn's hair. "It was an accident, kitten. It was an accident." He looked again at Bobby, his eyes cold for a moment. "It was an accident. You've got blood round your mouth, Bobby," he said.

Bobby sucked his bleeding hand again, then held it out as if in explanation.

"You'd better go and clean that up," said Uncle Paul, still holding Gwyn.

***

Sienne picked up several more small rocks and threw them, hard. One struck sparks as it glanced off the boulder.

Nemeth looked across at her. – I feel the same way, he said.

"Why did he do that?" Sienne demanded of Sherath, turning to face him.

"Because the Child loved it," said Sherath, glancing across at Jevann for confirmation.

Jevann nodded. "And because he could," he added.

"And for no better reason than that?" asked Louka, shocked.

"For no better reason than that," agreed Jevann.

"Am I right in thinking that the other man there," Nemeth said, flashing an image of Uncle Paul, "is the boy's father?"

"As I see it," agreed Jevann.

"How much of what we see is what you have seen, and how much is what we know of what you personally feel about it?" asked Sienne.

– Good question, little one, commented Sherath. Perceptive.

– In answer, said Jevann, I can't tell. I am sure that what I have seen has happened. I can't tell where, or when. It's complicated – because I feel that the nightmare of the chasing man has not happened in reality. But that it may, and that the Child herself has 'seen' it in the same way that I 'see', sometimes.

– You feel that it is the Child's own Precognition, and that it is – or may be – valid? asked Louka.

– She is no longer a small Child, Louka mine, said Jevann.

– 'Yours'? queried Louka with a smile.

– Term of affection, said Jevann, smiling back. What I have shown you here is what, from the Child's point of view – as she would be now – happened maybe eight or ten years back. She is no longer a little one. And the attack of Bobby on that desert mouse happened some time after the Child first had the nightmare.

"I think the boy's father knew – or suspected – what he had done," said Nemeth.

"Why did he do nothing about it, then?" asked Sienne, still scowling.

– Because the boy has some kind of power over him, said Jevann with a shiver. He has a fear of the boy. Funny – I've only just realised that one. Thank you, Sienne.

– What for? she asked.

– For asking me the question which showed me an answer, said Jevann.

– That's complex, too, commented Sherath. He rolled himself a leaf smoke-roll, leaning over to pick a burning twig from the fire with which to light it. "I've noticed before, Jevann, that, when it comes to your own particular Talent, the question itself frequently prompts the answer. Interesting."

Jevann stretched himself out and shut his eyes again. "I'm not complaining about it," he said smilingly.

"Are there any good memories? Is there anything good?" asked Louka.

"Yes, there are good memories," said Jevann. "Mostly associated with packbeasts and people who work with them."

– Does she have friends? asked Sherath.

– The packbeasts, and some of the people who work with them. The little desert mouse was a 'friend'. So was the cat.

– So 'was' the cat? What happened to the cat? asked Sienne.

Jevann opened one eye and looked over at her. "The cat died while she was away," he answered.

"How did it die?" asked Sienne, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.

"It ate poison," said Jevann softly. He abruptly sat upright. – and it was Bobby, again, who did that, he added. I didn't know that before, either.

– Has he killed everything that she loved? asked Tarke, appalled.

– Her mother and father still live. And she has an enormous dog, now, which is also a friend. Another thing I didn't know before. My head is aching with all this seeing, he said suddenly. I'm going off for a swim. Anybody care to join me?

***

Sienne came back to the village in the early evening, with Jekavi and the little ones. She sprawled next to Nemeth, and pinched a piece of steamed mutton from his plate.

"Oi! Get your own!" he said.

"Too tired to," she answered. "We've been busy." She chewed thoughtfully on the mutton for a while. "Incidentally, Nemeth, we found a really good bee-tree." – And you like honey, she added.

Nemeth gave a crack of laughter. "That's right, little one. Motivate me. That is always supposing that what you actually meant was: 'Nemeth, please will you raid the honey from the hive for us?'"

"Something like that," Sienne admitted.

"I thought perhaps you did," he said. "And this wouldn't be a bad time too, as it's dusk and they'll be getting sleepy."

"Count me out, I'm too tired," said Sienne.

"So you said," commented Sherath with a grin. "Though I'm not at all sure I entirely believe you."