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  The Merging Selves were wandering from table to table with platters of beef and pork. Several people rose and began to help themselves to wine. Daiya, disoriented by the loud uncustomary babble of voices, kept her seat. She and the other young people would be served soon enough; it was their feast. Anra handed her bread and fruit; a plate of meat and a bowl of fish soup appeared in front of her. She looked up; Cerwen was handing her a large goblet of wine. She caught the murmur of a child's mind, quickly subdued by an adult.

  She gulped down the soup. She tore at the meat with her hands and teeth, followed it with bread, swallowed some wine. She peered at Harel, who was eating heartily, laughing as his father told him a joke. She looked over at Mausi. The blonde girl was still and stiff, pushing the food on her plate around with a finger. “Daiya!” She turned and saw her aunt Deenē lift a goblet to her, smiling.

  Vasen got up. Those near him crowded together on their bench as he made his way over it. Still gnawing at a piece of beef, he wandered over to Daiya. He put a greasy hand on her shoulder and smiled. She smiled back. He gestured at her plate. “A good appetite,” he said as Daiya stuffed the last piece of meat into her mouth. “A good appetite's always a good sign.”

  The food sat in her stomach like a stone. Anra handed her a chicken leg and more bread and she forced herself to eat it. She thought: I could close my eyes and know Anra and Vasen are brother and sister, they have the same untroubled mind. But she could not look into their minds now. Anra rested a slim hand on her brother's chubby one. She did not have to look into their minds. There was the same serene confidence in her mother's brown eyes and her uncle's green ones. They were the survivors. Daiya thought of the others, Leito's and Morgen's dead children, the three uncles and the aunt she had never known, had seen only briefly in Anra's memory, dimly recalled young people who had left for the desert and joined the Merged One. Who died, she thought, surprised at the force of the words.

  Vasen ambled back to where his son Kal sat with Nenla. The two young people were smiling, heads close together, taking food from each other's plates. Merging Ones roamed from table to table, helping themselves to a piece of pork from one plate, a peach from another.

  She heard a choking, gasping sound and turned. Mausi was vomiting, doubled over on her stool, her head held by her mother Lina. Daiya sat watching, paralyzed, hardly able to believe it. Vomiting was such an easy thing to control; it was only done voluntarily, to clear the body of bad food or a sickness. Mausi retched, took a breath, closed her eyes, and rested her head on Lina's chest. Daiya turned away. Everyone at the table was stiff and quiet for a moment. Then they turned back to their food, speaking to one another almost too quickly. She wondered what they were thinking and was relieved she could not tell.

  She peered at Mausi out of the corners of her eyes. Lina still held her, bringing a bowl of soup to her lips. Oren had wandered over from his table and stood there, gazing sadly at the blonde girl. Daiya began to rise; Brun restrained her, putting a hand on her arm. She stared at the mountains; the sky was growing dark.

  Suddenly all the villagers rose to their feet. Daiya looked around uncertainly, then got up. Jowē TeiyeVese, the oldest Merging Self in the community, was hobbling to the head of each table, stopping to rest a hand on each young person facing the ordeal before moving on. She stopped near Mausi, placed a hand on the blonde head, then moved toward Daiya. Jowē's silver hair flowed over her shoulders; her blue-veined skin was pale and translucent, her small brown eyes as fierce and unfeeling as an eagle's. Her trousers and tunic, like her skin, were loose, falling in folds. She put her hand on Daiya's head. Daiya looked down at her feet, sensing Jowē's strength. The old woman went on to Harel's table.

  Daiya knew the feast was over for her now. It's too soon, she thought desperately, I'm not ready. She waited, feeling her insides coil, wanting to freeze time and reprieve herself. Jowē reached the last table, then turned to face everyone.

  —Tasso AreliJen—she called out. It wasn't just a name when the old woman thought it; the words hung in the air and rippled, sending out waves in all directions. It was a command. Tasso, a chubby brown-haired boy, went to Jowē.

  —Peloren HiyaRaef—The name was inside Daiya, rolling through her. Jowē was not just Jowē; she had not been just that for a long time. She was every Merging Self in the village; she spoke through them, they spoke through her, their thoughts were her thoughts. Daiya knew that, for the old woman, the Net was not frail strands; it was heavy rope, binding her to the others, so strong that her mind had drawn close to others. She had not been an individual for many seasons; she had probably forgotten what separateness was. She was not Jowē; that was now only a name given to the wrinkled illusion wearing the wrinkled white clothes. She was the village.

  Peloren, a stately, poised girl with sun-streaked brown hair, stood next to Tasso, making him look even chubbier.—Sude IeuaGeve—Sude darted over to Jowē and took a place behind her, hopping from one foot to the other, turning his head from side to side, glancing at everyone with dark restless eyes.

  —Oren KiyEde. Mausi LinaPili. Harel KaniDekel—

  —Daiya AnraBrun—

  Daiya joined the others. Jowē turned quickly and began to move toward the plains, toward the mountains. The young people followed her, trailed by other Merging Ones carrying bottles. Daiya, looking back at the tables, saw the villagers sit down again, preparing to finish the food and wine before returning home. Brun, head down, was staring at his plate; Anra was feeding Silla a piece of bread. Nenla was standing by a bench, lifting a hand in farewell. Daiya tried to hold the sight in her mind; she might never see them again.

  They kept walking. Mausi seemed steadier; her face was grim and set. Sude bounded from side to side, then lifted himself off the ground, soaring and swooping before landing again—using up his strength, Daiya thought sourly. Harel reached for her hand; his palm was dry. She touched his mind and felt a warm glow. Peloren's face was blank, her hazel eyes empty, her mind a glassy surface over storm clouds. Tasso puffed out his cheeks and smirked. Oren kicked a stone, grimacing as he stubbed his toe.

  —You're happy—Daiya thought.

  —I'm happy because we're together—Harel replied.—We'll go through this and come back and have our home together, we won't have to wait the way the others do—

  —If I live—She could not imagine Harel dying.

  —But you will, I won't let you die. You must join me before going to the Merged One—Harel's mind rippled; he had shocked himself with that daring thought. She sighed and let her mind drift.

  Jowē stopped, signalling for them to sit. Daiya looked back and was startled at how far they had come. She could no longer see the village. The sky was purple, almost black. Disoriented, she sat down quickly in the grass, which had been nibbled to stubbiness by the village's flock of sheep. She searched her mind; her consciousness had lapsed during the trip. Something gripped her. She reached for Harel's hand, unable to touch him with her mind. Jowē's mind was holding her, holding the others. Daiya's will was gone.

  A hand thrust a bottle at her.—Drink—the old woman said, her words resonating in Daiya's bones. She drank, tasting the sweetness and stickiness of the liquid. She blinked, unable to see Jowē in the darkness. Her body was being pushed against the earth. She lay down and closed her eyes. Her limbs seemed to float away from her. Her heart thumped, far away. Her head felt severed from her body, self-contained, alone.

  Jowē's voice rolled through her, chanting, but she could not hear the words. Then she saw what the old woman was seeing. The words beat against her ears. Another world rose up in front of her, shiny and metallic, with glittering spires and sprawling towns.

  She gazed at the scene, overcome by grief. She saw human faces and sensed their minds, as cold as the icy waters near the river's bottom, as hard as stones, empty, isolated, separate, trapped inside each head. Men and women were divided; a wall was between them and they could not read each other's hearts. The young and the old were h
aunted by suspicion, drawing away from one another as they roamed the wide streets.

  The image shattered. The mountains imprisoning the desert were surrounded by light, touched by the Merged One. They glowed, covered by a bright web. Woven by an invisible hand, the web covered the sky, its strands touching the faces turned up to it. The spires shook, crumbling to the ground; smoke billowed in the streets. People raged through the ruins like beasts, screaming, hurling their minds at one another. Their dark secrets roiled up and seized them, given substance by their new powers. Children screamed, torn apart by their parents. Men and women ripped at one another, rending their bodies.

  Daiya screamed. The sound pierced her eardrums, echoed by others. She could not watch this. She tried to thrust it from her mind and could not. People streamed from the ruined town, some rising and disappearing in the sky, others tearing at the helpless ones who could not fight back. And she heard Jowē's words:—That is when we were beasts, so primitive, so separate that when God touched us, we tried to reject the gift—

  A small group of people were huddled together in the ruins, melding their minds, shielding themselves as those around them murdered and maimed one another. At last they rose, surrounded by dead bodies and the wails of a few surviving separate selves. They touched the separate ones, bringing them a quick death. They turned to the rubble and lifted the earth, burying the ruins. The vision faded.

  Daiya lay on the ground, drained, unable even to open her eyes. She felt a hand on her chin. Another liquid was being poured into her mouth, a tart, cold beverage. Rivulets rolled over her cheeks and ran into her hair. She swallowed. Her temples hammered at the sides of her head.

  Jowē's mind hummed, one mind and many minds, all united.—You will cross the mountains, you will go into the desert. You will cross it until you come near the bones of the departed. There you will stand, backs against backs, a circle facing outward, and you will walk from one another for a day's journey and then another half a day, and you will sit and you will wait, facing back the way you came. And then you will return along the same route and meet again—

  When? Daiya found herself wondering.

  —You will know when it is time to rejoin the others. You will meet again, and you will know your fate—

  The Net was strong, binding them together. She felt a warm hand grip her, seizing her mind, and then she was pushed into blackness.

  Daiya awoke. She stretched, feeling the stubby grass against the backs of her hands. She sat up and looked around. The others were waking up also. Mausi was hugging her knees; Tasso lumbered to his feet.

  She looked down at her side and saw a cloth sack. She opened it and peered inside; she saw a wine sack, two large water sacks, and some dried meat and fruit. The other young people each had a sack as well.

  Daiya shrugged, surprised; she had thought they would be sent out with nothing. She wondered what the training had been for, all the days and nights of starvation and toughening herself. She looked inside the sack again, then drew it shut. She could see now that there was not that much in it after all; if she stretched it, the supplies might last a week at most.

  She got up, her head clear, surprised at how energetic she felt. It must be the food she had eaten at the feast, or maybe the potions the Merging Selves had given them. She lifted the sack to her back, putting her arms through the loops on either side. Two pieces of rope, attached to the loops, hung down over her chest; she tied them together under her breasts.

  —You're not afraid—Harel said to her. She searched her mind, startled to find that she was not. The fear had lifted.

  The sky was growing light; the sun was still behind the mountains. Peloren put on her sack, hiding her mental tumult behind her wall. Tendrils crept under her barrier, brushing Daiya. Peloren laughed more, cried more, got angry more quickly than anyone else she knew. Her poised, calm exterior did not seem part of her. Peloren, usually so open, always livening things up in the village with her feelings, unable to keep any passing emotion to herself—she did not have that many thoughts—had at least shielded herself from them now. Daiya sighed, relieved, hoping Peloren would be calm by the time they reached the desert.

  Peloren glared at her, having sensed the wish.

  —Don't you worry about that—she thought, cutting Daiya with a mental blade.—You're a great one to worry about me, you and that dark secret spot inside, you'd better just hope you get through without damaging us as well as yourself—She shook her head, blonde streaks catching the light, and began to stalk after Sude, who was already starting for the hills. Sude leaped and hopped, his straight black hair bouncing against his shoulders.

  Harel gazed at her reassuringly. They adjusted the sacks on their backs and walked toward the mountains.

  7

  The mountain rose before them, rocky and barren, its cliff-like surfaces almost perpendicular to the ground, as if a giant hand had sheared off the side. Daiya, standing on the top of a foothill with the others, looked to the northwest, then to the southeast, tracing the mountain range with her eyes. Nothing grew on the mountains, making them seem oddly artificial, unnatural. She had never been this close to the mountains before, having always stayed among the foothills; neither had the others. Too bad, she mused, if someone had, we might have known about a path we could take. She began to wonder why none of them had taken the trouble to explore the mountain range before now.

  —Isn't it obvious?—Peloren responded, calmer but still ready to lash out.

  —Is it obvious?—Daiya asked.

  Peloren wrinkled her nose.—Oh, Daiya, sometimes it's as if you spent your life behind a wall—The thought felt friendly enough, but there was an edge to it; Daiya could almost sense the anxious pounding of the girl's heart.—No one ever comes too close to the mountains, not before the ordeal, and no one who survives returns afterward, that's why—

  Oren shrugged his bony shoulders.—If you think about it, that doesn't seem much of a reason—he thought, echoing Daiya.

  —It certainly is—Peloren answered.—It's the best reason you can have, why should we be any different from anyone else? It isn't good to be too different, it leads to evil things—She glanced pointedly at Daiya.

  Daiya stared back. She did not want to argue, and knew Peloren did not either. They had more important worries; they had to maintain some unity. A thought escaped Peloren's mind and brushed against Daiya; she saw hopelessness lurking behind the other girl's petulance. She touched Peloren's thoughts and the words tumbled into her, arranging themselves:

  —Once

  I felt so unhappy, trapped behind my wall.

  I couldn't stop the pain,

  I couldn't speak at all.

  I never want to feel that way again

  so divided from the world and

  separate even from

  myself—

  Peloren shook her head and the words became a torrent:—I shook and thought I would tear myself apart with grief and then the grief left me and I was numb with no feeling at all dead and paralyzed I couldn't move and I wondered why it doesn't happen to others not like it does to me and then my grandmother came to me and I shared my thoughts with her and it passed and I told myself it wouldn't happen any more but it does and I can't stop it—

  Daiya nodded silently as Peloren bowed her head. There was nothing she could say. No one else was paying attention; walls up, they were still staring at the mountainside. She turned toward them.—We can't climb it—she said,—so we'll have to fly over it, that's all—

  Peloren looked up.—Why can't we just travel farther up or down—she objected.—Some of us can go one way, the others can go the other way, we can call to each other if we find a path. I don't know if we have the strength to float over the mountain—

  —We can float up, then rest on that ledge—Daiya replied, pointing to a rocky recess.—Then we can go up a bit farther and rest in another spot. There might be a way down the other side, and if there isn't, we can still rest at the summit before going
on. We can lock our minds together, that'll give us more strength, too—

  —I think my suggestion is safer—Peloren thought, her mind pressing assertively against Daiya's. Daiya looked at the others. Harel was smiling supportively at her; Mausi and Oren seemed ambivalent; Tasso was concentrating on a piece of dried fruit he was chewing; and Sude was getting impatient, willing to follow anybody.

  —Think—Daiya went on, appealing to the others as well as to Peloren.—It's noon now. If we go looking for a way over, we'll lose time. If we find a way, we may have to wait until tomorrow to cross if it's getting dark. We'll lose time and we'll lose strength. We only have so much food and water, and the sooner we face our fates, the stronger we'll be. We could be in the desert a long time, we don't know—

  —We'll be weaker if we draw on our strength to float over—Peloren insisted.

  —We'll have time to recover from that tonight—Daiya responded, pushing against Peloren, feeling the other mind shift and retreat a bit.—But if we have to go searching now, and climbing tomorrow, that will weaken us and we'll have lost a day, a day of water, a day of food, and there's no guarantee we'll find a path, which means we'd have to float over anyway—

  Peloren wrinkled her brows. Daiya could hear her mind rumbling,—Float if you want, the rest of us can look for another way—

  —Who's thinking of separateness now—Daiya answered, jabbing the thought deep inside Peloren.

  The other girl grew pale.—All right, we'll float—

  They linked minds, weaving them as tightly as they could. They rose, hands out, drifting up toward the rocky face. Daiya focused on the ledge far above them, hoping it was wide enough to hold them all. Beads of sweat dotted Mausi's forehead; Daiya lent her friend some of her strength.