 
Sally Startup

Spice City

Bees' Nest Books

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this story are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

Smashwords edition published 2014 by Bees' Nest Books

Copyright 2014 Sally Startup

The right of Sally Startup to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Smashwords edition, License Notes

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

SPICE CITY

ONE

At the Highfire Tavern after dark, on the first night of Winter's Heart, everyone was waiting for the skin dance to start. Willow had asked Rock to go there with her. She had been in the Spice City for less than one moon. Rock had grown up in the city and claimed not to be interested in tavern skin dances, but in the end he had agreed.

Most city workers got a three day holiday at Winter's Heart, so the tavern was crowded. Willow and Rock had been lucky enough to find a small bench to sit on, sharing it with an old man who wore a battered hat decorated with crow feathers. Willow was squashed in the middle between Rock and this stranger. Suddenly, the old man turned to her and spoke.

"That's honeywood, that," he said, pointing down at an empty wooden mug she held cradled in her hands.

The mug had contained hot, spiced cider. She had finished it some time ago, but could not return the mug to the serving counter without losing her seat.

"I know," she replied, aware that her hillish clothes marked her clearly as a newcomer to the city. Even so, she already knew that honeywood came from the Forest. Honeywood bowls and mugs gave a sweet flavour to any food or drink served in them.

"Listen to it," the old man whispered close to Willow's ear.

Surprised, she looked at him more carefully. The creased and weathered appearance of his skin suggested that he often worked outdoors. The fabric of his plain clothing was worn and patched. Most of the other people in the Highfire Tavern wore very new clothes made of fine, richly-coloured fabrics.

Willow knew enough not to admit to her talent publicly anywhere in the city. Now that the Harvesters were in control, such things could be dangerous.

The old man winked at her.

"Are you a Rat?" she asked him, boldly.

That was what city people called those who opposed the Harvesters. She and Rock had come to the Spice City with the intention of joining the Rats and helping them.

"Tell me what you hear from that honeywood and I'll tell you who I am," the old man answered quietly.

Willow felt Rock twist himself around until he was pressing closely up against her shoulder, facing the stranger. Laying a hand on Rock's knee to tell him she wanted to continue, she placed the fingertips of her other hand against the mug and _listened_. What she heard made her shudder.

"How could I not have realised?" she whispered aloud. "The Harvesters take the whole tree, roots and everything. Nothing's left to grow. They only want the wood for bowls and mugs. The tree would have been happy for them to take a few big branches if they had left the rest. Why do they have to be so greedy? Now the wood in this mug is slowly dying and all the rest of the tree it came from is dead or dying, too."

"And that's why you're here, or so I heard," said the old man, so quietly that Willow had to strain to hear him over the background noise of the busy tavern. "The harvesters will have taken all the animals that lived in the tree, too. Probably even the stones under the tree's roots as well. The thing is, see, a branch gives wood for a hundred bowls, but a whole tree's enough for thousands. So they take everything. That's the harvest."

"I almost forgot," Willow murmured, speaking half to herself. "I liked having a mug that sweetens the drink inside it. I never even thought to listen to it. I almost forgot I could."

She glanced at Rock, who was staring at the old man suspiciously. On their recent arrival in the city, the two youngsters had quickly found out how much had changed while Rock had been away. The Harvesters had grown in power. Now all the city elders were Harvesters. They had begun to persecute the Rats, who wanted to stop the harvest of the Forest and bring back the talents and the old ways. No one publicly claimed to be a Rat anymore.

"I think you two must be Willow the tree speaker and her companion, Rock, the city boy who can animal talk," said the man. "My name is Syme Deadlander and I'm a Rat." He whispered the last word even more quietly.

"How do you know who we are?" asked Rock at once.

"Well, you do look hillish and I was looking out for you, see. I know your friend Goshi. He writes letters to me. I picked one up from the Travellers' Exchange just a few days ago. He wrote it before you left the hills, as soon he knew you were planning to come here. A pack traveller carried it, but they went a round-about way and took longer to get here than you did."

Goshi was a sour old man from Willow's village. He had not said anything to her about Syme Deadlander. But he had given her some of his secret hoard of coin to help her survive in the city. No one needed coins in the hills, but no one could manage without them in the Spice City. Rock and Willow each carried a small amount of Goshi's coin in a belt purse. The rest of what he had given them was sewn into the seams and hems of Willow's heavy wool cloak and outer skirt. They had been trying to get by on as little of it as possible, hoping to make it last.

"Whatever Goshi told you about us could be lies. Have you actually met him?" Rock asked the old man.

Syme Deadlander grinned. His teeth were yellow and sharply pointed. "Yes," he replied. "A long time ago."

"How do we join the Rats?" asked Willow, still remembering to speak in a whisper.

Syme Deadlander held something in his closed fist. "First, listen to this," he said, holding it out. "It's a honeywood nut."

Lifting her hand from Rock's knee, Willow allowed Syme to drop the nut into her palm. It was pale brown and furrowed with deep, reddish grooves. Without letting go of the honeywood mug, she _listened_ to the nut.

It was hard to concentrate in the noisy tavern. Willow bit down on her lower lip. The bitter winter wind outdoors had dried and broken the skin of her lips, making them sore. Now their sudden stinging pain was a distraction.

Carefully smoothing her expression, she forced herself to ignore the sensation. After a while she became absorbed in the task of tree speaking, caught up in the excitement of meeting a new form of honeywood out of the Forest. Being a nut, it was saturated with stored liveliness waiting to expand.

"This is so strong," she said at last. "You could soak it in oil or milk and use it for flavouring, but even afterwards you could still plant it and it would grow into a new tree."

"It must be like that so forest animals can swallow it and excrete it again later," Rock suggested, "so the trees can travel about."

"Keep it, Willow. Use it for flavouring and then plant it somewhere," Syme told her. "Now, as for joining the Rats, first you need to know what you'd be getting into, see? We'll be drumming in Blue Fountain Square tomorrow. Starts at dusk. Come along and watch how it goes. Then afterwards, you make up your own mind."

A moment later, the noise from the tavern around them quietened. Looking over the heads of the people standing in front, Willow could not see much. But it was obvious the skin dance was about to start.

Syme got to his feet.

"This kind of skin dancing's not for me," he said. "Come to Blue Fountain Square tomorrow."

Then he left, making his way to the stairs that led down to the ground floor of the tavern. Willow noticed many of the smartly dressed city people taking a step back as he passed by them.

Opening one of the leather pouches attached to her belt, Willow dropped the honeywood nut inside. It knocked gently against a little carving that she always carried in there. The carving had been made by her village friend, Hest. He had been trying to carve a mouse, but it had come out looking like a scrawny rat.

Rock was swinging his legs over the back of the bench to stand behind her. "Climb up," he said. "You won't be able to see otherwise." He was considerably taller than Willow.

Leaving the empty honeywood mug on the floor, she followed his advice, although the bench was alarmingly wobbly to stand on. Rock steadied her by resting his hands against her waist, not seeming to mind that she was now in the way of his own view.

When he had asked her how she would like to celebrate Winter's Heart, she had said she wanted to see a city skin dance. They were so often advertised in news-sheets that she was curious. Rock had seemed uneasy about the idea at first. In the end, he had agreed to go with her to the Highfire, but talked her out of visiting any of the cheaper taverns by the wharves.

Someone lit a pair of big lamps in front of a raised platform on which three musicians now stood. To the side of the platform, Willow could make out a beautifully carved wooden pole fixed into the ceiling. The musicians played some quiet music to begin. Soon, a young man emerged from the shadows and came to the pole. He wore nothing but a small leather wrap belted around his hips. His skin was covered in painted patterns.

The single dancer pulled a thin knife from the sheath that hung on his belt. He lifted the knife high above his head until the blade glinted in the lamplight. Then, on a beat of the music, he lowered the knife and sliced it into the skin of his own chest. Showing no sign of pain, he then replaced the knife in its sheath, grasped the pole with one hand and began to dance around it. Sweat glistened on his back and shoulders as he twisted and tilted his body in long sinuous movements.

This was nothing like any kind of skin dance Willow had seen or heard of before. She had previously only known the kind that happened outdoors, when many dancers had stitchbark threaded through piercings in their skin and tied onto slackvine ropes attached to the top of the dance pole.

The tavern dancer circled the carved pole many times, always touching it with one hand, still moving his body in slow undulations. Then, as the music grew louder, the dancer let go of the pole and stepped away from the musicians' platform. He began to travel around the crowded tavern, going right up close to people, arching his back and pushing his chest out to display his bloody wound.

Willow soon realised that some people were slipping coins into the belt purse on the dancer's little leather wrap. At first she thought this was to reward a good dance. Then she noticed that the ones who had paid were reaching out to touch the blood running down the dancer's chest. People were taking his blood on their fingertips, touching their own faces and marking themselves with it.

Shocked, Willow found herself looking at her own dance scar on the palm of one hand. It had been earned very differently. Last summer, at longest days, there had been a skin dance organised by the young people of her home village. They had danced by moonlight in a grove of trees.

Willow had been told that skin dancing was for reminding youngsters they were no more important than any other living thing. She could not think what it did for these city people, who were taking blood from someone else's wound and paying for it in coins. If the dancer was the only one to suffer, did that mean the ones taking his blood thought they were more important than he was?

"He's taken dusk," Rock whispered, tightening his grip around her waist. "Look at his eyes. He can't feel any pain."

"He'll feel it tomorrow all right, if someone with dirty hands touches that wound and poisons it," she replied, beginning to wish she had not asked to see a city skin dance after all.

Remembering that Rock had skin dance scars of his own from before he came to the hills, she wondered just what kind of dances he had once taken part in.

When the tavern dancer eventually passed close to her, Willow peered critically at the young man's wound. She thought it looked fairly clean and was not very deep. The snaky movements he was making pulled at the flesh of his chest, opening the cut even further. His eyes were dark and empty. He was dreaming awake. She could not tell how many old scars covered his chest. Even his skin paintings were now smeared with blood.

At last, the dancer returned to the platform and the musicians finished with a final run of notes. Willow stepped off the bench as Rock climbed over it to stand beside her.

"Had enough?" he asked.

"Yes."

As Willow turned to go towards the stairs, she found herself face to face with two strangers. One was an extremely good looking boy. The other was a young girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen summers. The crowd behind must have pushed them forwards. Too many people seemed to be trying to get down the staircase at once, now that the dance was over.

The boy looked close to Willow's own age of fifteen summers. He had curly blond hair and bright blue eyes. His skin was a soft shade of pink. The girl had browner skin and long curly black hair. They were both quite plainly dressed in trousers and matching jackets. The boy also wore a second, thicker jacket, but the girl had only the one. Both of them seemed to be staring at Willow and Rock.

"Haven't you ever seen hillish clothes before?" Rock addressed them rudely.

He had swapped his city clothes for rough hillish wool last winter, on the journey that had taken him to Warner, Willow's home village. Seeing a flash of anger in his dark eyes, she worried that perhaps he would rather have his old clothes back.

This made her chew at her bottom lip without thinking. Too late, she remembered it was raw from winter cold. She nearly cursed aloud at the sting this time.

In Warner she would have used a skin salve from the herb cupboard to protect her lips. But there was no herb cupboard in the lodging-house room she shared with Rock. To make a salve, she would have to buy the ingredients. In Warner, she could have picked the herbs almost anywhere, and shared her talent in return for beeswax to mix with them.

The light-haired boy had not moved. He smiled at her. Reaching into the leather bag hanging over his shoulder, he brought out a very small pot.

"Your lips look sore," he said. "Try some of this."

Willow blinked in surprise. "How much do you want for it?" she asked warily.

"It's free. We work in Red Dawnweaver's stillroom and she's asked us to give out free samples," the boy explained. "Her brand is new. She wants people to try her products and find out how good they are."

As Willow took the little pot, Rock grabbed her other hand and began pulling her towards the crowd around the stairs. She tried to resist, not understanding what was wrong.

Rock turned to look back at the two strangers. "What are you talking about?" he asked them. "How long has Red had a stillroom?"

The young girl answered. "It's been open four moons. We work there. What's that to you, leaf-face?"

Without replying, Rock turned away again. Still holding Willow's hand, he led her quickly through the crowded tavern room, down the stairs and into the street. As soon as they were out of the door, she pulled up the hood of her cloak against the cold.

"Oh, sow's tits!" said Rock, before she could ask him why he was so agitated all of a sudden. "We've got to run, Willow. That's Caul Driver."

He was looking at a tall man standing near a lighted window on the other side of the street. The man's heavy leather clothing marked him out as one of the elders' people.

TWO

Rock led the way, still pulling Willow by the hand. They ran along dark alleys, across rickety wooden bridges over stinking drains, past windows lit up with Winter's Heart candles, and past the blank shutters of closed workrooms. Several times, Willow gasped out questions, but Rock would not answer.

At last, they reached their lodging-house, where they hurried up the staircase to their room. Rock shut the door firmly behind them. Willow lit the lantern and then began to lay a fire in the stove, waiting for him to explain.

"I know he saw us," was the first thing Rock said. "But maybe he didn't recognise me in the dark. He could have just been there as a minder for those two youngsters."

"I don't understand. Are you saying the elders' man knows you? Did you know those two who gave me a free pot of salve?"

"Let me see it," he said, still not answering Willow's questions.

Ignoring him back, she lit the kindling using her firestone. When there was a strong fire going in the stove, she took off her cloak, but not the woollen jacket underneath. Finally, she got the little pot of salve out of her jacket pocket.

"I wonder if it's a good salve," she said, handing it over to Rock at last.

He held the pot up to the light of the lantern, turning it around in his fingers. "Harvesters' rubbish," he said. "Look at that, it says Red Dawnweaver on the label, but the little picture like an upside-down tree is Capability Reader's brand. Red's so loyal to him she hasn't even got a brand of her own. Why on earth would she want to open up a stillroom?"

"Who is Red Dawnweaver?" Willow demanded, almost shouting. Rock often infuriated her like this, even now that she counted him as one of her closest friends.

He was staring at the pot in his hand, still turning it round and round. "She's my mother," he answered. "And my father's name is Capability Reader. And that elders' man we saw is Caul Driver, who sometimes works for my parents when the elders don't need him. I don't know the two youngsters, but the whole lot of them are Harvesters and I'll be happy if I never see any of them ever again."

"Oh," was all Willow dared to say at first. When Rock got upset he would sometimes avoid talking at all. She would have loved to hear more, but knew any further questions would only push him into silence again. After a long pause, she added, "Can I have the salve back, though? It was free and my lips are still sore. I don't want to use Harvesters' medicine, but I haven't got a lot of choice if we're going to make Goshi's coins last."

Frowning, he handed her the little pot. She opened it and took some of the salve to rub on her sore skin. At the same time, she absent-mindedly _listened_ to it, not really expecting a response. Harvesters' medicines were usually very dead. Much to her surprise, she discovered traces of some rather lively fresh greenroot leaves in the mixture. She did not know if that meant there was a tree speaker working for Red Dawnweaver, or if there had been some kind of accident in the stillroom.

Willow knew that a stillroom was a workshop for making medicines, as well as everyday skin creams and hair dyes. An apparatus called a still was used there to make concentrated perfumed liquids that could be stored for many seasons without spoiling.

No tree speakers were supposed to be in the city anymore, but there were plenty of healers. And, unlike tree speakers, who could make their own medicines for healing, the city healers had to buy medicines from shops which sold the products made in stillrooms.

"Do you really not want to see your parents?" she risked asking Rock.

"No, I really don't," he replied. He was crouched in front of the stove, watching the brightening flames.

"Aren't you even a little bit glad to be back in the city?" she coaxed. "It isn't all bad. I like the shops and the craftspeople. And I like the spices."

She saw his shoulders drop as he relaxed a little. Then he laughed. "You really can't get enough of the spices can you?" he said. "I thought you'd spit out your first taste of neezle dumplings and complain your mouth was on fire."

"They were hot," she admitted, "but so delicious."

As the room warmed, they sat side by side on the bed. There was nowhere else in the room to sit. For sleeping, Willow used the bed and Rock had a nest of blankets on the floor. They were close friends, but not lovers.

"Rock," she asked him seriously, still carefully trying to discover his thoughts without causing him to retreat into silence, "if you didn't miss the city, why have you come back? Was it really only to help me find the Rats?"

She thought she already knew the answer. After spending some time in the hills, Rock had travelled with Willow to the marsh villages. There, he had fallen in love with a girl called Kezzy, who had not loved him back. Rock had been heartbroken. That was when he had decided to accompany Willow to the Spice City, running away from his own feelings.

"I came here to join the Rats, that's all," he replied stubbornly.

"But you could have joined the Rats last winter when you first ran away from home, instead of going all the way to the hills and ending up in Warner."

Rock had run from the city after developing the talent of animal talking. It had happened to him just as the Harvesters were getting rid of all the rats in the city by poisoning them. He had heard the animal rats as they died inside the wooden walls of his own bedroom.

Around the same time, city people who wanted to oppose the Harvesters had begun calling themselves Rats. Their choice of name had been inspired by the Harvesters' poisoning campaign.

Without speaking, Rock suddenly took both Willow's hands into his own, looking right into her eyes. She tried to hold his gaze, but could not. Instead, she found herself looking down at their clasped hands.

"After we left the marshes, I wanted to be with you," he said eventually, "and you wanted to come here."

"But, Kezzy..."

He dropped her hands and jumped to his feet.

"Never mind Kezzy. I've got something for you. I almost forgot," he said, reaching into one of his jacket pockets. He brought out a short beeswax candle, setting it down on the windowsill. "I bought a Winter's Heart candle for your first winter in the Spice City. We can help to light the longest nights if we leave the shutters open. We'll be cold, but it's traditional."

"Yes, light it," Willow agreed. Then, feeling dangerously bold, she added, "Sleep next to me and keep me warm."

She wished she knew exactly what he had meant when he said he wanted to be with her. Did he mean as his friend, because she had been a comfort when he had found out the truth about Kezzy? Or did he think of Willow as someone who might become his lover? She was afraid to ask him outright, not knowing if she wanted the answer to be yes or no.

For an instant, she almost thought he looked shy, but he did not refuse her. They always wore all their clothes at night, because the room was very cold, even with the shutters tightly closed. For the first time, Rock climbed onto the bed beside her and lay down. Later, when the fire in the stove had burned away to embers, he turned his head towards her.

"Rock, how many summers have you seen?" She had never thought to ask before, in all the time they had been companions.

"Seventeen. But I'm a summer baby, so my first was when I was only just born."

"Oh. I was a spring baby. So we're only really one summer apart. I thought you might be older than that."

She lifted her hand to brush one fingertip across his chin, where he was beginning to grow a young man's beard. He did not speak, although she could feel his smile.

Before long, the sound of Rock's breathing suggested to Willow that he had fallen asleep. She continued to lie still, watching the flame of the Winter's Heart candle on the windowsill. Rock had stood the candle in a dish of water for safety. Even if it fell, or spluttered badly, it was not going to cause a fire. Willow's thoughts kept her awake for some time.

The next day, she woke late and pretended everything between them was just the same as before. Although everything actually felt very different. Rock said nothing about the previous night. From time to time, looking for some indication of his feelings for her, she watched him carefully. However, she learned nothing new.

They stayed in their room until it was time to set off for Blue Fountain Square for the drumming. Yet they hardly spoke at all. This was not all that unusual. Rock was very often silent. Unable to bring herself to ask him directly how he felt, Willow assumed he was probably just as unsure of his feelings as she was about her own.

She thoroughly cleaned the stove, while Rock fed bread crumbs to a family of wharf mice who lived in a hole in the wall behind the stove pipe. Then the two of them checked their remaining supply of coins, satisfying themselves that there was enough to see them though two seasons if they spent carefully.

In the evening, Willow got her drum from her travelling pack. When he noticed what she was doing, Rock shook his head.

"Leave it here," he said. "This drumming will be an entertainment. You won't be expected to join in."

Willow tucked the drum back inside her pack, hiding her face from him as she bent forward. Hoping he would not guess how ignorant and stupid she felt, all of a sudden.

They left the lodging-house and walked to Blue Fountain Square. It was in a part of the city that Willow had not been to before. The buildings around the square were mostly tall stone houses with several stories. Rock explained that there were shops at street level, with living spaces for the shopkeepers on the floors above. The square itself was an open area of rough grass and a few trees.

The area was used for grazing goats. Willow recognised the familiar smell of the animals and noticed a cluster of wooden goat pens. The goats had been shut safely away. Their pens were guarded by an elderly couple seated on a pair of wooden stools, peacefully watching the festivities from a distance.

Nearer the middle of the square, tents and booths had been set up to sell goods to all the people celebrating Winter's Heart. At the very centre was the fountain, a decorative kind of pump with a wide bowl of blue stone to catch any spilled water. Residents of the surrounding buildings were still queuing to fill buckets and pans and kettles, in spite of all the extra visitors. Willow and Rock paid a small coin to the attendant and waited their turn for a drink. The water was so cold it made Willow's teeth hurt.

With so many people everywhere, Willow was careful to stay close beside Rock as they walked past the stalls and tents. Not only was he taller and a little older than herself, he knew the city well. Without him, she might never even find her way back to the lodging-house.

Lamps and lanterns with coloured glass shades lit up the many stalls, whose owners were constantly shouting out to customers and to each other. Children ran around laughing and shouting. Several grown men with bellies full of ale staggered about, bellowing like angry stags. Yet, even with all the other noise, it was easy to find the drumming circle. The sound of drum skins being tested after tightening, rang out across the square.

There was no drumming fire. The only light for the drumming circle came from lanterns on the stalls nearby. Willow counted nine drummers. A wider circle of onlookers had already formed around them. She was surprised to hear these people talking, laughing, and even arguing, after the drumming had begun.

The drummers wore roughly patched clothes and furs. They had dyed wool and feathers threaded into their hair. Those with small drums sat on hide-covered stools on furs spread over the cold ground. The largest drums were almost waist high to the men and women who stood to play them. Syme Deadlander was behind one of these large drums, still wearing his hat with crow feathers.

While they played, the drummers laughed and called to one another. Soon they were building up rhythms that pulsed through the soles of Willow's boots and pounded in her belly as well as sounding in her ears. She knew that the Harvesters liked to preach about how drumming was dangerous, but no one here seemed frightened. Apart from herself and Rock, the only onlookers who appeared to be listening properly were some groups of strangely dressed youngsters.

As the rhythms of the drumming grew louder and faster, some of these oddly dressed young people began to sway from side to side, shaking their heads in time. They wore ragged clothes, not much finer than sacking, decorated with bedraggled feathers, bones and small bits of wood. None of them looked older than fourteen summers.

"Who are they?" Willow asked Rock, pointing to the nearest such group.

"Riversiders," he replied. "Best avoided, or so most people think."

Willow had read about Riverside in the city news-sheets. Supposedly, it was where the roughest, laziest city-dwellers lived. But she had also learned from Rock and Goshi not to believe everything she read. The look of these youngsters reminded her a bit of her friend Wildcat from the marshes, although Wildcat's hair feathers were always fresh ones.

"They dress a bit like the Rats," Willow said, having noted that the youngsters' dress style slightly echoed that of the drummers.

Rock nodded. "Dangerous," he commented. "But Riversiders are too poor to pretend to be ordinary workers. And I don't think anyone's certain the drummers are Rats. They haven't said they are, but they're not exactly trying to hide. I wonder if that's what Syme meant about seeing what they do before deciding to join them."

At one point, a man tried to interrupt the drumming by shouting insults. "Filthy leafers! You're no better than the Green... you're worse than Green!" he yelled. His cheeks were red and he staggered a little on his feet, no doubt from too much ale.

The drummers never missed a beat.

"Thank you, sir," Syme Deadlander called back. "I'd be very proud to be half as good as a Green drummer."

It was a surprise to Willow that city people knew the Green were real. She had grown up thinking they were only a story. Eventually she had learned that the Green actually did live in the Forest. They were said to drum and skin dance and use the talents better than anybody. Thinking about it now, she realised it might suit the Harvesters very well for people to know about the Green, yet disapprove of them.

The man who had tried to insult the drummers spat on the ground and walked unsteadily away. Syme appeared to ignore him.

"We want no coins!" Syme called out a short time later, addressing the crowd. "No payment! We entertain you for free."

The drummers were as skilful as any Willow had ever heard in the hills or the marshes. After they had stopped for a rest, a lot of Riverside children, and even several city people, went forward to talk to them and inspect the drums.

"Let's go too," she said to Rock.

The two of them started for the drumming circle. But, before they could reach it, Willow heard loud shouting coming from behind her. Turning to look, she saw a group of leather-clad elders' people striding through the crowded square.

Rock put a hand on her arm. Taking this as a warning, she slowed her pace as they walked on. Looking towards the drummers once more, she saw they were hastily bundling up their furs and stools and drums. Those with the biggest drums carried them on their backs, and those with smaller drums took care of the rolled up furs and stools. Within a few moments all the drummers and Riversiders had left.

"Someone probably called the elders' people out," Rock explained. "Someone saw Riversiders and heard shouting and thought there was going to be trouble. Let's go and buy some honey cake. If the elders' people spot our hillish clothes, we don't want them to think we're in the city without any coin. If they do, they might try and send us to work in a spice warehouse. I know you like spices, Willow, but you don't want to breathe in spice dust day and night, for less coin that you'd need to keep yourself from starving."

Willow knew about spice warehouses. They were oftten mentioned in the news-sheets. However wonderful the taste and smell of small quantities of spices might be, the huge amounts stored in spice warehouses were overwhelming. Spice dust could make the warehouse workers ill. And Willow had also read that many spice warehouses were now being used to store and process the harvest from the Forest. If even half of what she had read was true, she never wanted to go in a warehouse of any kind. Following Rock, she tried not to swing her hillish skirts too obviously.

THREE

Willow continued to keep a look out for Syme Deadlander in Blue Fountain Square, but there was no longer any sign of him. All the drummers had gone, scared away by the elders' people.

"He found us before, he'll find us again," Rock assured her. "He didn't just bump into us by chance in the Highfire Tavern."

Standing in a shadowy corner to eat their honey cake, the two of them watched a nearby group of Riverside children playing and teasing one another. Eventually, while the stallholder was serving a customer, one of the children snatched a whole tray of honey cake and ran off with it, chased by all the others.

At the stallholder's shout, two elders' women came running. They wore leather aprons over their skirts, with the same kind of leather jackets as the elders' men. After listening to the stallholder's angry description of the theft, the women set off after the children.

"Those children looked starved," Willow commented, sadly. "I hope they get away with that cake. They really needed something to eat, even if stealing wasn't the right way to get it."

Rock shook his head. "If the elders' women catch them, they'll be branded," he said.

"I thought you called that little picture on the salve pot a brand. Do you mean the elders will draw pictures on them?"

"Sort of," he replied. "They burn a picture into the thief's skin. It makes a scar that never goes away. So everyone knows they've been caught stealing. Shopkeepers won't serve them. Nobody trusts them. And it's there until they die."

"But..." Willow's impulse to argue at the unfairness shrank away before she could voice it. The elders were Harvesters, cruel and unfair. "Do they only brand people who steal?" she asked instead.

"No, there are brands for fighting, lying, madness..."

Willow was silent for a while, thinking through the implications of this. She had heard the talents called a madness, here in the city.

"What if the elders decided to start branding Rats?" she said, at last. "Being a Rat is something they think is wrong, too, isn't it?"

"Yes, it could happen," Rock agreed. "Maybe that's the kind of thing Syme meant when he said we ought to think carefully before we join them."

It was clear they were not going to find Syme again that evening, so they headed back to their lodging-house. With Winter's Heart lights set in windows everywhere, brightening the night, and with so many workers on holiday, the streets were busy. Although the weather was cold, so many feet walking the streets had made the ground muddy underfoot. The hems of Willow's outer skirt and cloak grew wet and slapped against her legs as she walked.

"Don't tell me you miss the snow of the hills?" Rock teased her when she complained.

Willow smiled, pleased that Rock was sounding more relaxed now they were away from Blue Fountain Square. "I'm glad to be seeing the famous Spice City," she replied, "but there are some things here I don't like." She was no longer only thinking about the mud. "I keep wondering about Trasket."

Trasket was the brother of Willow's friend Emmie. Willow hoped that Emmie was safely growing her baby in Warner and setting up her new cottage with Rune, who was to be her living-partner. Trasket had left for the city, thinking he would earn himself a lot of coin, and even send some of it home to the village. Now that Willow had seen the Spice City for herself, she knew that Trasket might already have died of cold and hunger. If not, he was probably near starving in Riverside. He had brought no coin with him when he arrived. If he had managed to find work, it was likely to be in a spice warehouse.

"He should have talked to someone other than that stupid travelling Harvester before he set off. I should have warned him. So should Goshi," Rock answered.

They reached the end of the street where their lodging-house was.

"Go on in and get the stove lit," Willow told him. "I'm just going to buy some nuts and dried cherries."

They had nothing but stale bread left in their room. And the honey cake was all they had eaten that day. There was a little food and drink stall on the street corner.

"Are you sure?" he replied. "I'll get the food and you can do the stove if you'd rather."

"I'm fine," she insisted, wanting to prove how well she was learning to behave like a city-dweller instead of a hillish newcomer.

The food stall was at the top of some stone steps. As Willow made her way up them, she began to regret not letting Rock buy the food. A lot of people were standing or sitting on the steps, eating and drinking. Some of them looked and smelled like they had been drinking large amounts of ale and cider. As Willow tried to get close to the counter, she was bumped and jostled from all sides. At last, she managed to buy a small folded paper bag filled with hazelnuts and dried cherries. Then she had to make her way back through the rowdy customers to get into the street again.

As she walked towards the lodging-house, she saw Rock standing by the entrance talking to someone. It was too dark to be certain, but she thought the other person was a man dressed in leather – an elders' man. The stranger walked away before Willow reached the doorway. Rock disappeared inside the lodging-house without seeing her. She hurried after him and up the stairs to their room.

"What did the elders' man want?" she demanded straight away.

"Oh, hello. You were quick. He just... he saw my hillish clothes and he asked me if I had coin, that's all. But I showed him my purse and he stopped being interested. That's what you do if they stop you. They're always bothering young people. It's nothing."

Willow was about to ask more, but changed her mind. It was obvious that Rock would rather forget about all elders' people at that moment. He turned away from her to lay a finger on the hole in the wall behind the stove, greeting the wharf mice. Willow passed over a hazelnut for him to give them.

While Rock lit the fire, Willow removed her cloak and outer skirt, hanging them over the end of the bed to let the hems dry out. Then Rock sat beside her on the bed and they shared the bag of nuts and cherries.

Willow found herself hoping that he would sleep next to her again. She wondered if this would be a good time to ask if he was interested in becoming her lover. Finally admitting to herself that it was what she wanted to know, she still hesitated. The idea had made her feel unusually shy of him.

After their small meal was done, they boiled water for tea, then allowed the fire to die down. There was just enough wood stacked beside the stove for the following morning. Tomorrow they would need to buy another basketful from the lodging-house owner. The rent was due as well, Willow remembered suddenly. She decided that when she and Rock visited the lodging-house owner to pay their next moon's rent, she would suggest they also bought two baskets of firewood, saving themselves a later trip.

"Have you changed your mind about joining the Rats after what you saw tonight?" Rock asked as he dropped redberries into the hot water.

Willow thought carefully before answering. "No," she said, eventually. "I'd like to help Syme's Rats. Some of the others do dangerous things like setting fire to warehouses, and it's no wonder the elders' people go after them. But those drummers... Yes. Did you see the way some of the crowd wanted to look closer at the drums afterwards? If the elders' people hadn't scared everyone away, those Rats would have told them more about drumming, and maybe got them wondering if what the Harvesters say is really true."

"The elders' people go after all Rats, even the gentle ones," Rock warned.

"I know," she agreed. "There are two kinds of people in the city, aren't there? One kind is the elders and the Harvesters and all the workers and merchants and spice traders, who earn coin and live well. And the other kind is the Rats and the Riversiders and other people who don't quite fit in. If I choose to be a Rat, then I'll be in the second group. That will mean a lot of the people in the first group won't trust me. Most city people think all the Rats are the same, just like the Riversiders."

"You've worked all that out and you still want to be a Rat?"

"Yes."

The Winter's Heart candle had burned away the previous night. They had not bought another. Beeswax was expensive. They closed the shutters over the window before putting out the lamp.

Rock lay down beside Willow on the bed. Although she could not see his face, he seemed lost in thought. When she pressed herself close against his side, he did not show surprise or try to stop her. After a while, she rested her head on his chest.

"Willow," he said, softly. "I think you should go home to Warner."

"What?" She sat bolt upright in surprise.

"It's too dangerous in the city. Joining the Rats is too dangerous. You saw all those elders' people turn up out of nowhere. What if they'd arrived just as that drunken man tried to start a fight? Sometimes they pay people like him to do that, to make the Rats angry enough to fight back. Then if an elders' person knifed a Rat, they'd say it was all the Rat's fault."

"No! I can't go home," Willow almost shouted. She was suddenly furious with Rock. "I've only just got here. I said I'd join the Rats and I will. I came to stop the Harvesters and save the Forest."

"What if it's too late?"

"I hear the Forest every time I tree speak. If it's too late, why does the Forest call to us like it does? You must have heard it too. Everyone with a talent hears it."

"But not everyone with a talent decides to do something about it. Of course I hear it too, but I'm not certain any of us can help. Maybe you should go home to Warner and be a village tree speaker and keep that way of life alive. What if another travelling Harvester goes to Warner and persuades others to leave like Trasket did? If you're there, then you can warn them. Tell them the truth about the city. The villages need protection as much as the Forest does."

"No! Wolf the Harvester came to Warner and caused trouble, because the bigger Harvesters here in the city sent him. The Harvesters that are going to the Forest and tearing it up come from right here in the city, too. If anyone's going to stop them, it has to be done here. I have to join the Rats! If you don't want to stay with me then you don't have to, Rock, but I'm not going back."

"I do want to stay with you, Willow," he said. But then he sat up and got off the bed. She heard him cross the room to lie in his pile of blankets on the floor.

Willow almost called him back to her. Then she almost went to him. But she was very angry, and did not want him to think he could tell her what to do, just because she cared for him.

Pulling her own blanket around her, she shut her eyes. "I wish you'd show it, then," she murmured, so quietly that he could not possibly hear her.

By then it was very late at night. The fire in the stove had gone out and the room was growing colder. Eventually, Willow's tiredness overcame her anger. She fell asleep tucked tightly into her blanket, thinking of all the things she would say to Rock in the morning. She planned to explain, in great detail, exactly why he was wrong to suggest that she should give up so soon.

When she opened her eyes again, a shaft of bright sunlight shone through the gap between the shutters, telling her that she had slept away half the morning. She was alone on the bed, lying beneath the blanket in her underskirts, still wearing her jacket over her blouse.

Sitting up, she slid her feet quietly to the floor. It took her some moments to wake up enough to realise that Rock was not in the room. Neither were his blankets or his travelling pack.

Urgent squeaking noises came from behind the stove. Looking at the hole behind the stove-pipe where the wharf mice lived, Willow saw that the empty paper bag from the food stall was rolled up and wedged in there. There was writing on the paper. Rock must have talked to the mice, asking them to draw her attention to it and not to eat it before Willow got up.

She opened the shutters to read the note in the light from the window.

Willow

sorry sorry sorry

I have to go

it is not your fault

Syme will find you soon

go with him

I have some coin in my purse

you keep all the rest

you are wise

I know you can do what you have to do

much love from Rock

At first, all Willow could think was that she ought to thank the wharf mice for looking after the note. Everything else was too much of a shock to take in. Poking one finger into their hole behind the stove, she tried to send thankful thoughts to the little creatures. Although she was not an animal talker like Rock, she had learned a little from him. And from Wildcat, her friend from the marshes. Willow had taught both of them about tree speaking and they had tried to teach her animal talking, in return.

Since Willow knew these particular wharf mice quite well, it was not too difficult to hear them. She could tell that they accepted her thanks. But she also noticed something strange, although not very clear. It felt like the marsh villages.

Her ability to recognise subtle differences in the feel of the plants and creatures from different places was rather limited. Last summer's visit to the marshes had been the first time in her life she had been out of Warner.

She wondered if the wharf mice had brought Rock a message from the marshes. Perhaps a trace of such a message was still in the animals' heads. She was not enough of an animal talker to know. Wharf mice lived all over the place. They might have been able to pass on a message from one nest to another, all the way from the marshes to the Spice City.

However much she tried to understand the wharf mice more clearly, Willow could not _hear_ anything more. The obvious conclusion was that Kezzy was somehow involved in Rock's disappearance. Had he gone back to the marshes?

"Rock you are the filthy spawn of the Black Beast! You dung licker! Sow's tit biter! Slime-pisser!" she yelled aloud, wishing he could hear her.

She paced around the room until she finally ran out of curses. Needing something practical to do, to help herself calm down, she picked up her muddy cloak and outer skirt. They needed cleaning, and she even considered getting a needle and thread from her pack, to take the hems up a bit. That would keep them out of the mud when she went into the streets again.

Sitting on the floor at the end of the bed, Willow hauled her damp skirt across her knees to inspect the hem more closely. As soon as she began to run the wool through her fingers, she could tell that something was horribly wrong.

"No!" she cried aloud, "No. No. Oh, no!"

Even through the caked mud clinging to the wool of her skirt, she could feel where the stitching had been cut. The coins that had been sewn into the hem were gone. She worked her fingers around and around the hem, over and over again, but not one coin was left. Someone had robbed her, probably on the crowded steps below the food stall.

Frantically, she hurried to check her cloak. Finding a few coins still hidden in its seams, she sighed with relief. Then she discovered that the lower parts of those seams had also been cut through. Almost all of the stored coins were gone. Willow's belt purse was almost empty of small change. But all she had now was whatever remained in there, and the small number of coins from her cloak that the thief had not reached.

Until the start of this winter, she had never even touched a coin. Now, living in the Spice City, she had already become used to handling the small, grubby metal discs with their faintly bitter smell. She needed them every single day.

"No," she said again. "Oh Rock, you're stupider than a witherbird. You couldn't have chosen a worse time to disappear."

FOUR

After counting her remaining coins, Willow counted them all over again, just to be certain. It was the last day of Winter's Heart. The hardest, coldest moons of winter were still to come. In the Spice City everything had to be paid for with coins, including water, food, shelter, firewood and lamp oil. Without coin, she might as well go back home to the hills. The little she had left would not even last until the next full moon.

Pacing the room, she stamped her feet and cursed aloud at whoever had stolen her coins, and at Rock as well. Then she cursed herself for not having noticed the damage to her clothing the previous evening. Maybe Rock would have stayed if he had known what had happened. He might, at least, have given her what was left in his own purse. He would not need it in the marshes, if that was where he was headed.

Once she had used every curse she knew, several times over, Willow slumped on the bed, feeling exhausted. She got out the honeywood nut and Hest's carving, from her belt pouch. Turning the carving over and over in her hands, seeing it sometimes as a rat and sometimes a mouse, she found herself thinking about Hest and Emmie. Hest was travelling, searching for a water reader to take him on as an apprentice. Emmie would be having a baby in the summer and settling into her own cottage, if all went well. Willow missed them both. And she missed Rinnet, her mother. She missed many of the other villagers, too.

Her grandmother, Yenna, had died less than two seasons past. Willow would never see her again. She knew that the sad, heavy feeling of missing Yenna would never completely disappear. Neither would the angry pain she felt whenever she remembered her half-sister, who had not even lived long enough to be given a name.

If Willow returned home to the village of Warner, as Rock had suggested, at least she would be reunited with Rinnet and Emmie, and the other villagers. She would no longer be alone.

After putting the carving back in the pouch, Willow held the honeywood nut. The sweet smell of it was not quite the same as honey. It was not like anything she remembered from home. If she chose to go back, she could plant the first ever honeywood tree in Warner.

"No," she said softly, speaking aloud to the honeywood nut. "Not yet. I've only just got here. I can't go home yet, however much I miss it."

It took the rest of the day for Willow to repair her clothing. The next morning, she brushed the mud off her boots and polished them with nut oil from a bottle in her travelling pack. Then she oiled her belt as well, taking all her carrying pouches off it and hiding them away in the pack. They had a particularly hillish look to them, especially her small belt knife in its sheath.

Before putting away the oil bottle, Willow took her hillish drum from her pack and smoothed oil onto the skin to keep it supple. Then, after replacing the drum and the oil, she filled up the rest of the pack with all her spare clothes, her blankets, and everything else she owned.

Remembering to say goodbye to the wharf mice, she left the lodging-house room for the last time. She visited the lodging-house owner to explain. He shrugged unsympathetically, indicating that such things happened all the time.

Walking the city streets, Willow stopped at every shop, eating-house, tavern, laundry, bath house and workshop she came to, asking for work. No one admitted to needing another worker. Several times, she was advised to talk to the elders' people. It was impossible to know if there was really no work to be had, or if her clothes and her travelling pack made everyone suspicious.

By noon, Willow's feet hurt, and her shoulders ached from the weight of the pack. Fighting despair, she decided to go to the Travellers' Exchange, in case any letters from home had arrived for her. Rinnet, Hest and Emmie were bound to have written by now, but there was no way of telling how long such letters might take to reach the city. They would be carried by pack-traders, or anyone else who passed through Warner and was willing to deliver them, in trade for goods they could sell elsewhere. Willow had paid in coin to send her own letters home as soon as she arrived in the city. Now she could not afford to send any more.

After forcing her tired feet to walk just a little further through the cold streets, Willow entered the old stone hall of the Travellers' Exchange. There were a few hillish-looking travellers resting on the benches. Some of them were pack-traders, like Rummy the Trail. Rummy always called at Warner when he passed through the hills. He was the person most likely to bring letters for her into the city.

Queuing for the counter, Willow could not help looking for Rummy, however unlikely it was that he would have arrived that very day. He was not there. There were no letters for her, either, but she remembered to ask the girl behind the counter if more workers were needed at the Travellers' Exchange. The girl shook her head and offered directions to the nearest warehouse.

Turning away from the counter, Willow had to fight hard not to begin sobbing out loud. Sitting down on a wooden bench to rest her feet, she closed her eyes, hoping to recover enough courage to set off again.

There was a sudden creaking sound as someone else sat down, right next to her.

"G'd afternoon," said a voice.

Opening her eyes, Willow saw a thin, leather-dressed man. Watching her closely, he moved his legs as if to get comfortable on the bench. This made his thick leather clothing creak again, and also gave her a clear view of the large knife sheath at his belt. It was a knife for fighting. Not a simple belt knife, like her own.

Uneasily, Willow realised that she recognised the elders' man. He was the one who had been standing outside the Highfire Tavern on the first night of Winter's Heart. Rock had called him Caul Driver.

"Excuse me, but I heard you asking for work," he said, smiling without seeming friendly.

Willow wanted to get up and run. But she had a heavy pack, and the man had a very big knife. He looked as if he could run at least as fast as she could.

"I don't need your help, thank you," she answered him.

"I think you do." He looked directly into her face until she returned his gaze. "I suppose you know what happens to youngsters with no work and no home, here. The city streets are cold and dangerous, but no one respectable will take you in. You look too hillish."

When she did not reply, he went on. "You'll end up in Riverside, or dead of cold. They all do. I'll take you straight to Riverside if you want. I'll deliver you to a spice warehouse. It'll save you a long, cold, hungry night. You'll be under cover when you're working, and they'll pay you enough for a crust of bread and a palmful of water twice a day."

Willow shuddered and shook her head.

"Not yet?" asked the man. "You've got some coin? Well, in a few days then, when your last coin's gone."

Willow knew he was right. If she did not want to end up in Riverside, she would have to leave the city after all. Just as Rock had suggested. Her only hope was to convince the elders' man to leave her alone for long enough to get away.

He gave another unfriendly smile. "I've heard things about hillish people," he said. "And it's your lucky day, because I've been wanting to find one."

Willow almost sighed aloud. But the look in his eyes so terrified her that she remained silent.

"I'm looking for someone to do a very special job," said the man, still smiling. "It needs someone who's good with plants. I've heard that some hillish people are very good with plants."

"I won't work in a spice warehouse," she answered firmly.

The man laughed. "You'll have to, if you turn this offer down. But I told you, it's your lucky day. I'm looking for someone to work in a stillroom. Have you heard of Red Dawnweaver?"

"No," Willow lied, feeling her chest go cold with horror. She remembered very well that Red Dawnweaver was Rock's mother.

"Oh," said the elders' man as if it did not matter. "Well, Red Dawnweaver has recently opened a stillroom and she's asked me to look out for young people who work well with plants. She doesn't work in the stillroom herself. She owns it, and sells the products. Are you interested?"

Willow considered her choices. She could try and run from the elders' man, then walk all the way to the hills. She could go and work in a warehouse, or continue to trail around the city trying to find work somewhere else, assuming the elders' man would let her go. Or she could try working for Rock's mother. Rock would be horrified if he knew. But Rock had run off and left Willow to manage on her own.

She did not want to work for Harvesters, but she certainly did not want to find herself in Riverside and be worked to death in a spice warehouse, either. And she was curious to know more about Rock's background. Not only that, she could learn things in a Harvester household that the Rats would like to know. Trying to keep her expression unchanged under the gaze of the elders' man, she realised that he might just have offered her a way to help the Forest, after all. And although she would have to make the Harvesters' dead medicines, she might meet the tree speaker who had used fresh greenroot in that pot of salve Rock had been so annoyed about.

"Where do her workers sleep? How much do they earn?" she asked the elders' man, taking care not to sound too keen.

"You would earn one silver disc each moon and have a room in Capability Reader's house. He's Red Dawnweaver's living-partner," he answered.

"Well, I suppose I might be interested," Willow said, at last.

"Good. Then you'd better come and meet her. Follow me."

The man stood up and walked quickly out of the Travellers' Exchange. Willow hurried to follow him, wondering why an elders' man would be helping a stillroom owner to find workers. She assumed it must be another of the many things she did not yet understand about the ways of the city.

The elders' man, Caul Driver, led Willow into a gravel-lined street in a rich district. Unlike the narrower streets of the rest of the city, those in the rich districts had gravel paths for people to walk on. Between the paths were central roads for horses, carts and carriages. Rock had told Willow how the gravel was dredged up from the river bed to keep the way clear for ships. He had preferred to keep out of the rich districts though, so she had never actually walked on gravel before.

The elders' man stopped to wait for a cart to drive out of a side alley. Willow used the opportunity to bend and pick up a handful of gravel from the path. It was little stones of all colours. If she were a stone listener like Hest's father, Nettle, she would be able to ask the little stones where they came from. They might have travelled all the way downriver from the hills, or even from the Forest.

Caul Driver took her along a smart, tree-lined footpath, to an area of wooden houses. Each house was surrounded by a large, fenced garden. Some had their own driveways leading from their front doors to another gravel-lined street.

"Do these people grow their own vegetables and keep pigs and chickens?" Willow asked curiously, on seeing the gardens.

"A few maybe. Some have small orchards. Most of the gardens are just to look nice. You know, with flowers in summer?"

Willow was not sure she did know. In her experience, flowers grew wild, or they were necessary for producing fruit, or they were useful medicines, however lovely they looked.

Then she and Caul Driver went through a gateway towards a large wooden house at the end of a long path. Either side of the path, neatly tended plants were all resting for the winter.

There were stone steps up to the door of the house. Caul Driver made Willow put down her pack and wait at the foot of the steps, while he went in to talk to Red Dawnweaver. Nervously standing and waiting, Willow let the gravel stones slide from her fingers one by one, scattering them on the ground, where no one else would notice them.

After a long time, the door opened and another man looked out at her. He was much shorter than Caul Driver, with a kinder expression. He wore loose trousers of woven cloth.

"My name is Rust Dewsinger," the stranger said. "I'm the housekeeper. Come inside, Willow."

"The elders' man never asked me my name," she answered suspiciously.

"Elders' people like to find out about everyone," said the man called Rust, quietly. "Come and meet Red Dawnweaver. No one here will hurt you."

Carrying her pack, Willow followed him into the house and along a hallway. Rust wore slippers that made a gentle slapping noise on the polished wood floor. Willow tried to step as softly as she could in her heavy boots.

Stopping outside a closed internal door, Rust took Willow's pack from her. Then he opened the door and told her to go through. The room beyond was lined with cushioned chairs and polished wood cabinets. It was very warm. Two lamps glowed on either side of the fireplace, although there was already plenty of light coming through the large glass window.

A woman sat on one of the chairs. She had dark skin and black hair. Her hair was looped up and fixed somehow on the top of her head. She wore a long grey dress with wide sleeves that fell back over bracelets of black beads around her wrists. The beads knocked against each other musically as she raised her arms, pointing at the chair opposite her own.

"Sit, please," she instructed.

Willow sat down, feeling very awkward, afraid that her muddy skirts might spoil the fabric on the chair cushion.

"I am Red Dawnweaver," the elegant woman said. "I believe you know my son."

Willow stared at her in surprise and sudden fear.

"The elders' man who brought you here is Caul Driver," Red continued. "He often works for my living-partner, Capability Reader. We asked him to search for our son and he traced him to the hills, eventually. Do you know a man called Rummy the Trail?"

"Yes." Willow was so horrified, her voice was just a whisper.

"Well, I think Caul Driver bought him a meal and several mugs of ale in a tavern. In the end, Caul worked out that my son had changed his name and ended up in a little village in the hills. By the time Caul got there, you two had set off for the city, so he had a wasted journey. He watched out for you both, once he had returned. Unfortunately, now it seems my son has taken off again, but we do at least have you."

Red leaned forward, looking straight into Willow's eyes. Willow tried to stare back, but it was hard to concentrate. She was terrified by the thought of Caul Driver visiting Warner.

"Have you and Jen been lovers?" Red snapped, suddenly.

"Who's Jen?" asked Willow, although she thought she already knew.

"My son's name is Jen Dawnweaver," Red explained. "Caul Driver tells me you know him as Rock."

Willow found that she was clenching her hands together in her lap. She willed herself to relax before speaking again.

"Rock is my friend. That's all," she managed to say.

"Where is he now?"

"I really don't know," Willow replied. "He went away and he didn't tell me where he was going. He thought I had enough coin to live on my own, but it was stolen. That man – Caul Driver – said you could give me work. If you can't, then I should go now. I need to find work and somewhere to stay."

Red looked thoughtful for a few moments.

"You are a tree speaker?" she asked.

Willow knew she must reply carefully. All that Rock had told her about his parents was that they were Harvesters and he wanted nothing to do with them. On the other hand, Rock had been surprised to hear about his mother opening a stillroom, and he did not know about the greenroot in the salve.

"In the hills I was a tree speaker," she admitted. Caul Driver had probably found that out already. Inwardly, Willow trembled to think of what else he might have discovered about her.

"Would you like to work with plants in my stillroom?" Red asked, showing no sign that she considered Willow to be dangerous.

The little that Rock had told Willow about his parents, suggested that working for his mother would be a very bad idea. But, surely it could not be as bad as a warehouse. Caul Driver had said Willow would earn a silver disc every moon. She might be able to save up enough to live on her own again in a few moons. In the meantime, at least she could find out who put greenroot in a Harvesters' salve.

"Yes," she answered, hoping it was not a terrible mistake.

FIVE

Red Dawnweaver turned away from Willow, to pick up a little brass bell from the cabinet behind her chair. A moment after she had rung it, the housekeeper, Rust, entered the room.

"Willow is our new stillroom worker. She can sleep in the spare attic room," Red told him. "Make sure that she understands the household rules."

After that, she seemed to ignore them both. Willow stood up and followed Rust out of the door.

He took her up a staircase to a tiny room at the top of the house. Willow's travelling pack was already propped against the bed. Not big enough to have its own fireplace, the room felt warm. Rust explained that on the other side of the wall was a brick chimney, rising from the rooms below.

Willow thought of Rock. He had left this house for good after hearing poisoned rats dying inside his bedroom walls. She remembered him once describing how his home was constructed from double layered walls of planked timber. Rats had lived in the gap between. Generations of rats must once have lived in the walls of this room, too. Now, every last one was dead.

Hanging her cloak on the peg on the back of the door, she replaced her boots with some thin slippers that Rust had found for her. Then the two of them went all the way back down to the ground floor, where Rust led the way to his own workroom.

There, as well as a desk laid out with writing materials and notebooks, there were several shelves of household tools. Willow saw firestones, lamps, a box of candles, lumps of beeswax, brushes, mops, buckets and cloths. The room smelled of ink and wax.

"You can eat in the kitchen every day at first light," Rust said. "Juliette Ducknest is our cook. You'll be well fed. Go to the stillroom straight afterwards. Another meal is brought to the stillroom at midday. You work until sunset, unless a recipe needs attention through the night. That happens more often in summer when the stills are set up. Otherwise, your free time is after dark. And there are three rest days each full moon, as well as at longest days and Winter's Heart. You'll be paid one silver disc for every complete moon you work here, but the household will take back half a silver disc each moon for board and lodging."

She instantly realised that earning enough to leave would take far longer than she had hoped.

"While you live and work here, you have a duty to the household at all times," Rust went on. "Someone will be keeping an eye on you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she answered. It seemed perfectly clear that she ought not to try looking for any Rats in her free time.

"I'll order clothing for you later," Rust added, looking her up and down. Then he picked up a blank sheet of paper from his work table. Taking a small knife from the pen tray, he sliced the paper in half. "I hope you can write," he said, handing one piece to Willow.

"Yes, I can," she answered, raising her chin. Did he think only city people learned to read and write?

"There's a lamp in your room. Do you have a firestone? And have you got pens and ink in your pack?"

"Yes."

"Red Dawnweaver wants you to write a letter to her son, telling him that you are working here. It will be left at the Travellers' Exchange, marked for Jen Dawnweaver who calls himself Rock."

Willow tucked the paper under her belt, understanding that she could not refuse to write the letter, if she wanted to earn her coin. Red obviously expected more than just another stillroom worker in return for her silver discs.

"How is Jen Dawnweaver? Has he got over his fear?" Rust asked, then.

Rock's fear had been of knowing the pain of animals as they suffered. In the hills, he had learned how to control his talent and how to accept it. Willow did not know if this was what Rust meant. If it was, she did not want talk to him about it.

"He was well," she answered, carefully.

Rust said nothing more about Rock. Leading the way out of his workroom and back along the hallway, he passed several closed doors. When, at last, he opened one, a familiar smell flooded out. The odour was a mix of herbs, roots, spices, and the kind of grain alcohol used in medicine making. They had come to the stillroom.

It had been built on to the side of the house and had huge glass windows in three of its walls. There was a stove, and an interesting-looking trough with what looked like the stem of a plant leading into it from the ceiling. Under the windows were long work benches with cupboards and shelves beneath. In the centre of the room was a large table laid out with dried herbs, spices and equipment.

A girl and a boy were standing at either end of the table. Willow recognised them straight away as the pair from the Highfire Tavern. The girl was pouring a thick liquid into small bottles, and the boy was pounding some bark in a stone mortar. He looked up and smiled. Despite the coating of plant dust on his blonde curls, he was just as good looking as Willow remembered.

"Willow, these are Naesy Rootgrinder and Shim Dealer," said Rust. "They will tell you what needs doing and show you where everything is. Naesy lives in Riverside. Every day she is allowed to stop work in time to get home in daylight. Shim lives here, like you do now. You and Shim must work until sunset, as I said."

After quickly looking around the room as if checking that everything was in order, Rust left.

"Pleased to meet you, Willow," said Shim, without showing any sign that he remembered seeing her before.

"What can I do?" she asked, going over to the table.

"You can go back where you came from, leaf-face," answered the girl called Naesy.

"Don't take offence. Naesy talks like that to everyone," Shim said quickly. "Come on, I'll show you how we know what needs doing."

Willow saw him give Naesy an exasperated look. She would have liked to ask how a girl from Riverside was allowed to work in such an expensive house, yet was not allowed to live there. But she was afraid to say anything that might antagonise Naesy, who seemed touchy enough already. Shim explained Red's lists of instructions, and the recipe sheets and stock records. It seemed that Red's workers were generally left to carry out her instructions unsupervised, except for occasional visits from Rust Dewsinger, or from Red, herself.

After Shim's introduction, Willow helped to sort, chop, pound and powder a collection of herbs for a strange paste which then had to be potted and sealed. Red's written recipe called it 'Brown Plaster'. Shim said people bought it to spread on strips of cloth to bandage sprains. Willow had learned from her mother and grandmother that plain cold water would ease most sprains, but she did not mention this to Shim. Clearly, stillroom work was going to be very different to the work of a tree speaker in the hill villages. Tree speakers administered medicines as often as they made them, so they did not waste time on elaborate remedies when simple ones worked just as well.

Naesy continued to glare at Willow all afternoon, as if she could not wait to see her make a mistake. Willow pretended to ignore it. But she was relieved when the light began to fade and Naesy set off for Riverside.

"Take no notice of her," Shim said, as soon as the girl had left. "Her mother's ill and she's very worried about her. It makes her even more grumpy than usual."

"Is that why she doesn't live here, because of her mother?"

"That and her younger sister and brothers. She takes care of all of them."

They got the stillroom lamp lit and heated water to wash the used equipment. Shim explained that the hollow plant stem running down the wall into the trough was a water pipe.

"It's the latest thing," he said. "There's a rain-collecting tank on the roof above us. The tank's made from split planks of the same plant, lined with resin. A gutter on the house roof empties into it. As long as there's been enough rain, we can open the tap at the end of the pipe and the water pours into the trough. There's another pipe to take the waste water out through the wall to a pit filled with gravel. Then it just soaks out slowly into the garden."

Whenever a panful of water was needed, Shim let Willow turn the valve at the end of the pipe and watch clean, fresh water gush out.

"I couldn't stop playing with it either, when I first came here," he admitted.

Once, when she was sure he was not looking, Willow laid a hand on the pipe and _listened_. It was still alive, although not growing anymore. The thick, hollow stem came from the Forest, harvested along with so much else. But it would not die as long as water flowed along it often. It was lighter than wood, and would not crack and leak if it dried out. Willow thought of her friend Hest, who had the rare talent of water reading. Hest would love to see this new marvel of the city.

When Shim returned from the storeroom, he was carrying a jar of wood-polishing oil.

"Leave that pipe alone. It'll still be there tomorrow," he said, laughing. "We'll give the table a rub over with this and then we're done. We can get some supper out of Juliette's larder. Do you want to come with me to a tavern after that? I sometimes go to the Highfire, but they charge coin to get in. The Rising Eel's cheaper."

"I'm sorry, but I've got to write a letter," Willow replied, suddenly remembering her extra task. "Maybe another night."

Shim seemed nice enough, but Willow knew she could not be sure of anyone in a Harvester household.

Alone in her attic room, after lighting the lamp with a spark from her own firestone, she wrote a letter to Rock. It took her a long time, because she thought very carefully about every word before she wrote it down.

Rock most of the coin was stolen

I am working for Red Dawnweaver in her stillroom

Caul Driver found I had no coin

I would rather be with you

where are you

from Willow

Underneath the writing, she made a tiny drawing of a wharf mouse peeping out from the end of a scroll of rolled paper. There was much more she would have liked to say to Rock, but she knew that Red Dawnweaver would also read her words. The letter would make Rock angry if he ever read it. With luck he might never receive it. Especially if he was already on his way to the marshes.

After finishing the letter, Willow reached into her pack to find the pot of salve with Red's brand on it. She _listened_ , again, asking the greenroot to tell her who had made the salve. All she could sense in reply was that it had been someone untrained and nervous. The greenroot in the salve was only a very small part of the original plant, and much time had passed since it was picked. From the little she found out, Willow thought whoever had added it might have found themselves tree speaking by accident. Like Rock hearing the rats and discovering he was an animal talker.

She was tired enough to sleep well in her strange little room. It was warm and comfortable, even though it was right in the middle of a nest of Harvesters.

At dawn the following day, she went to find the kitchen and meet Shim for breakfast.

The kitchen hearth was huge. There was a roasting spit, a row of hooks for hanging up unused pans, and a bread oven big enough to hold several loaves at a time. To Willow, it looked large enough to burn as much wood in one day as an ordinary worker's family would use over half a moon.

Even though it was midwinter, the cook, Juliette Ducknest, wore only a linen skirt and a blouse with the sleeves rolled up.

"Welcome, welcome," she said to Willow, handing her a bowl of hot, roasted root vegetables sprinkled with toasted seeds. It smelled delicious. Then Juliette added, "Oh, have some more, there's nothing of you at all," quickly dropping a second spoonful into the bowl.

Willow did not object. She was very hungry. Looking around while eating, she noticed there was no living water pipe in the kitchen. Soon, Juliette opened a door leading to the garden and went out, returning shortly afterwards with a filled bucket. Seeing Willow observe this, Shim explained that every house on the street had a well of its own. The rich districts were high above the river. Beneath this one was a natural underground reservoir.

"All the wells dried up last summer, though," put in Juliette, who had overheard. "Too many houses all drawing water at once. We had to pay for water that came in buckets on a cart, so we didn't run out. Just don't you start enjoying your comfort so much you forget how lucky you are, Shim Dealer. Nothing comes free in this city."

Willow and Shim sat beside the hearth to have their breakfast. Juliette went outdoors again, in spite of her light clothing.

"Is Naesy really always as rude as she was yesterday?" Willow asked Shim.

"Worse, usually," he answered. "But Red's been very patient with her."

Willow frowned. From the little she had seen of Rock's mother so far, that was hard to imagine.

"Look," Shim went on, "Rust already told us you're a friend of Jen Dawnweaver, but Jen had disappeared by the time Naesy and I came to work here. I don't know anything about why he left and why he won't talk to his own mother. But I do know that Red is a kind woman. She's giving Naesy a chance, when many people wouldn't. The thing is, Naesy was brought to the elders for punishment. She was caught stealing dusk from a warehouse. Red offered Naesy work, and talked the elders into letting her go."

"Dusk," Willow sighed. "It's good at getting people into trouble."

"Did you steal dusk, too?" asked Shim curiously. "What's your story, then, Willow?"

She refused to answer, but it was fun knowing that he was interested. Looking down at the food in her bowl, she wondered what Naesy ate for breakfast.

"Naesy's allowed food from the kitchen when she arrives," said Shim, as if he had guessed Willow's thoughts, "and sometimes Juliette gives her more, to take home to her family."

He poured out two mugs of spiced redberry tea, from a jug on the hearth.

"We're going to need this," he commented. "We've got to make pungent syrup today. It stinks. People drink it when they've got to go to Riverside. The smell sweats through their skin so they stink as well. It's supposed to protect them from Riverside sickness. Have you read the news-sheets? They're always going on about Riverside sickness. Of course, Red knows any real sickness in Riverside is probably caused by dusk or starvation, otherwise she wouldn't let Naesy go home every night. But the stories in the news-sheets are good for our sales."

Later, in the stillroom, Willow lit the stove as Shim set out the ingredients for pungent syrup. These included large amounts of garlic, onions, and a collection of plants Willow did not know. Shim patiently named each one for her and listed their uses.

As she fed kindling sticks to the fire in the stove, Willow repeated the names of the plants to herself in her head, just as she had done as an apprentice tree speaker. Wristwood could be ground and powdered and spread onto festering wounds, or made into syrups for coughs and sore throats. Cleargold's perfumed flowers went into delicate oils and skin creams, but its roots were strongly nourishing, adding force to any recipe. Creepvine was for hair dye, and also to colour edible mixtures. Selenivet was used to balance other flavours.

Then there were the spices, brought on ships from the spice lands. Willow prodded and smelled the ginger, neezle, acet, dawnpink and veristimon, _talking_ to them, as far as she could without Shim noticing. She knew that spices were picked by skilled, respectful people rather like tree speakers. The spices were stored and carefully packed, then sold to spice merchants who carried them in ships across the sea and up the big river to the Spice City. The news-sheets reported that there had been a drop in spice trading in the city. There was no lack of spices in the hot lands over the sea, but the harvest of the Forest was a better way to earn coin than running spice ships.

Naesy arrived, scowling. Then the three stillroom workers set to work measuring and chopping, pounding and boiling.

Willow was surprised and relieved to discover that few of the dried plants from the storeroom were dead, like the useless medicines that Wolf the Harvester had brought into Warner.

Tree speakers knew that dried or lightly cooked plants could have plenty of life in them as long as they were stored well, although overcooked or badly prepared medicines died quickly. The Harvesters did not seem to be able to recognise the difference.

Much stillroom work appeared to involve boiling, pounding and powdering the lively plants from the storeroom until they were thoroughly destroyed. It was unpleasant to take part without complaint. Compared to tree speaking, stillroom work felt pointless. Willow was not at all surprised that Shim had implied pungent syrup was really useless.

SIX

As soon as she got the chance, Willow told Rust she would like to wear trousers like Naesy's. The first girl she had ever seen wearing trousers was her friend Wildcat in the marshes. Ever since, Willow had longed to try some.

Several days later, Rust presented her with two comfortable pairs of brown trousers, one of them lined for cold weather. There was also a matching jacket, four linen blouses and four pairs of linen undertrousers. Rust sent Willow's winter skirts to a laundry for cleaning. They came back smelling of moth repellent herbs and were hung up in her little room.

It did not take long for Willow to adapt to moving about in trousers, although Naesy laughed at her.

"You look like a bundle of firewood in a sack," was Naesy's nastiest comment. "Brown doesn't suit you," was milder, but felt almost as hurtful.

Shim's flattery could sometimes make up for Naesy's rudeness. "Look at the lovely colour of Willow's hair when the sunlight falls on it. Rust must have chosen the trousers to match," he said once.

In spite of Naesy's constant bad temper, Willow tried to be polite in return. She could see that the girl worked very hard. Some of Naesy's bitterness probably came from being tired out. Naesy seemed healthy enough, but towards the end of the afternoons, Willow often noticed a slowness about her movements and a dullness in her expression.

Every day in the stillroom, there was a new process to learn, or a strange piece of equipment to make sense of. Willow enjoyed meeting so many new spices and herbs, even though, privately, she often found fault with the way they were treated.

She stopped tree speaking altogether, afraid that someone would notice. And she did not yet know who the other tree speaker in the household might be, or even if they were still there.

Red Dawnweaver and Rust Dewsinger visited the stillroom from time to time, but Willow did not see Capability Reader at all. Or Caul Driver.

She soon discovered that Shim, Rust and Juliette had attic rooms to sleep in, not far from her own. Capability and Red used a separate staircase to reach their own rooms on the upper floor. There were even two separate privies in a corner of the garden, one for Capability and Red, and one for everyone else. Willow often wondered where Rock's room had been, and whether it was still kept waiting for him.

It was always warm and dry in the stillroom, no matter how bad the weather was outdoors. And, in the storeroom nearby, were even more new plants for Willow to get to know, although she was afraid to greet them properly. There were also new foods to try at mealtimes. At night, she was always too tired to want to go out after her work was done.

Just before the full moon, Red wanted a batch of black hair dye made up. Hair dye needed long boiling, with constant watching and stirring. Willow and Shim would have to work until it was finished, although Naesy had to leave for Riverside at her usual time.

Long after dark, alone with Shim, Willow decided to try and find out if he was the one who had put greenroot in the salve he had given her at Winter's Heart. She stood close beside him at the stove, stirring the slimy black mess in the nearest steaming pot.

"What do you think about the talents, Shim?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

He looked up from the pot he had been attending to. "Rust told us how you used to be a tree speaker in the hills," he said. "It's all right. I'm not prejudiced, but we don't believe in the talents here."

Wrapping a cloth around his hand, he grasped the handle of a pot that was threatening to bubble over, sliding it onto a cooler part of the stove top. "Are you saving the coin you earn to send home to your village?" he asked.

"No," Willow replied, offended. "The hill villages don't need coin. In our village we live by sharing."

She stared down at the soft cloth of her new trousers, thinking how rough her woollen skirts must have looked to Shim and Naesy.

"We weren't poor," she added, feeling angry. "We just didn't use coin."

"No need to spit like a cellar-beetle." Shim laughed. "I didn't mean to insult you, but life's better in the city, isn't it? Think of the water pipes. They're better than an old well or a pump, aren't they?"

Willow dared not explain that some people in the hills did not even have a well nearby. Shim was unlikely to understand about clear streams and springs. He probably thought all wild water was as dirty as the river near the wharves.

"It's the same with the talents," Shim went on. "I'm sure the idea's been useful for people who don't have coin, but we don't need to believe in talents here."

Willow fetched a cloth to wipe a drop of spilled hair dye from the stove. It was obvious the unknown tree speaker was not Shim. "Do you know any other tree speakers, apart from me?" she asked him.

"No. The talents don't really exist." He was stretching his arms above his head and flexing his shoulders. Then he peered into the pots and sighed. "These need to boil until the liquid's reduced by half again. We're going to be here most of the night. Everyone else in the house will be asleep already."

There were two folded sheepskins kept in the bottom of a cupboard, for the stillroom workers to use to sit on. Shim hauled them out and dropped down onto one. He grinned up at Willow as she wiped the stove top, opening his arms wide.

"Come and cuddle up, Willow," he called. "Come and tell me about your village and I'll tell you about the city."

Lamplight shone down onto the top of his head, burnishing his blonde curls. His skin seemed to glow. As he smiled at her, Willow noticed how very straight and clean his teeth looked. She did not trust him, and was not sure that she even liked him. But it felt very flattering to think that he liked her. She went over and sat on the other sheepskin, close beside him.

Then he leaned forward to clasp his arms around her, pulling her forwards so that she toppled against him awkwardly. She felt his chin resting on the top of her head. He smelled of soap and fresh sweat.

Shim moved himself round into a position where their faces met. Suddenly, he fastened his lips over Willow's mouth and began to kiss her so hard she could not breathe. His hands clutched her arms painfully. Lying across his chest, she could not quite get her feet to the floor in order to lever herself out of his grip. Even so, Willow fought to get free. At last, Shim let go of one of her arms. When he continued to kiss her, she slapped his face, hard.

"Ow!" he cried, finally backing off.

"That's not what I call a cuddle," said Willow, jumping to her feet. "I never, ever want your arms round me again, Shim Dealer!"

"I'm sorry. I thought you'd like it." He rubbed at his reddening cheek.

"You thought I'd enjoy being suffocated and bruised? You mean city girls expect boys to kiss them without asking?"

"Come and sit back down," he offered, patting the empty sheepskin. "I'm really sorry. I didn't know I was hurting you. You should have told me."

"How could I have told you? Your lips were all over my mouth." Still furious, Willow sat down on the sheepskin, facing the other way and refusing to look at him.

"I promise I won't do it again," he said. "I really didn't realise you wouldn't like it. We can still be friends can't we?"

Willow considered whether she wanted to be his friend. She did not know a lot about him. Maybe he was only ignorant.

"All right," she replied, in the end. "But only if you'll let me tell you something. You have to listen carefully until I've finished. No interruptions."

He gave no answer, so she assumed that meant he had started listening.

"What you just did to me was what the Harvesters are doing to the Forest," she began, continuing to look away from him, not wanting to be distracted by his smile and how good looking he was. "You took without asking. You might have thought you knew what I wanted, but you didn't. You only knew what _you_ wanted. And I couldn't tell you I didn't like it, because I couldn't speak when you were kissing me. But the Forest can speak. It speaks to people with talents. Really, the talents are just about knowing how to listen."

She allowed herself a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure that Shim was taking in what she said. He was watching her solemnly, so she continued.

"The Forest isn't only in pain for itself, either. It knows that the harvest is affecting people, and plants and animals, in other places far away. The harvest caused the floods that came to the hills last summer and killed my grandmother. And the harvest filled the rivers with silt, and changed the places in the marshes where the spike fish and the swamp fever flies live. Swamp fever killed a lot of people in the marshes because of that. The Forest is so big, it affects everywhere else. That's what I wanted to say. Thank you for listening. I'm glad we can still be friends."

When she finally turned to face him, Willow saw that Shim was now frowning.

"Don't ever say things like that where anyone else from this household can hear you," he said, sounding very serious, almost scared. "They'll... well that's not something people talk about, all right? You can say it to me, I understand it's normal to think such things where you've come from. And Red probably cares more about your relationship with her son than anything else. But never, ever, let Capability Reader hear you say anything against the harvest. He's... well, you should hear the way he goes on about those news-sheets that do – those new ones the elders haven't managed to get under control – the ones that print lies about us."

"What's Capability like?" Willow asked. "I haven't met him yet."

"He's rich and he'll get richer. It's lucky for me and you and Naesy that he wants us here."

"He wants us for Red's stillroom, but why does Red want a stillroom?" Willow asked, remembering Rock's surprise when he heard about it.

"To earn coin of course. It earns them a lot, and we get some too, which is good for us. And, I told you, Red's kind. If Red hadn't brought Naesy here, Naesy would have been branded a thief."

Willow shuddered at the thought of such a thing. "Just for one mistake, the elders would have burned a mark on Naesy that would last her whole life?"

"There has to be some way of keeping order," Shim replied. "A brand is a label, like the ones we put on boxes in the storeroom so we know what's inside. Haven't you seen brands on cattle and sheep, to mark who they belong to?"

"No. Everyone in my home village knows all the animals, and who looks after them."

"Oh," said Shim. "Willow," he went on after a pause. "Don't tell anyone about our cuddle, will you? Please? Capability's got this thing about lovers who aren't living-partners. He thinks everyone should choose a living-partner first, before they become lovers."

"That's silly." Willow was so surprised she almost forgot about being angry with Shim. "How can anyone decide if they want to be living-partners if they don't try out being lovers first? Why should all lovers be living-partners? My mother and father were lovers once, but they weren't living-partners."

"It's different here," he replied. "Especially for Harvesters. Harvesters are important and they have to show it by starting new fashions. The news-sheets help – well, the ones under the elders' control, anyway. But if they found out about a Harvester who was going against the others and not following the fashions, even they would print the story. Capability wants to join the top Harvesters, the richest ones. The ones with the stone houses and shoes made out of bog-lizard skins. He follows all their ideas. The other Harvesters would soon ignore him if they thought he wasn't going along with what they wanted. And it's best to please him if you want to earn coin in his household. I'm sorry, I should never have touched you."

It was time to check the pots on the stove. Shim did not try to touch Willow again, much to her relief. She did not know if he held back because of her own reaction, or because he had scared himself by telling her about Capability Reader.

When the hair dye was boiled down enough, they lifted the pots onto the hearthstones and covered them. While the pots cooled, Willow and Shim slept in their attic rooms. Just a short time after dawn, they returned, to begin straining and bottling. Neither spoke a word about the previous evening.

SEVEN

Willow carefully hid her dislike of the Harvesters as she witnessed even more of their way of life. Her own opinion was that everything Capability Reader and the other Harvesters had brought back from the Forest had, in truth, been stolen. And others paid a price for what the Harvesters took. People living outside the city suffered droughts and floods and crop failures. And the forest plants and animals were harvested so brutally that they could not renew themselves.

The harmful effects of the harvest of the Forest were occasionally mentioned in a few of the new city news-sheets – those that remained outside the elders' control. Willow and Rock had searched out some second-hand copies when they had first arrived in the city. Now, Willow put together what she had read with what was said in the stillroom, and in Juliette's kitchen. She had begun to understand that the poorest of the city people also paid a price for the city's wealth. Warehouse workers remained poor, yet their labour helped to make the Harvesters richer.

With so much to think about, and plenty of work to do, Willow hardly went out at all. Even on her first rest-days, she only went to the nearest bath house and laundry. She felt too tired to do anything else.

On the last afternoon before Willow's second rest-days, Red entered the stillroom.

"There has been no reply to the letter you sent my son," she said, coming to stand directly in front of Willow. "We must find him. If you hear anything about him – anything at all – you must tell me, or Rust Dewsinger. Do you understand?"

Willow nodded silently, afraid to ask questions, but interested to know why finding Rock was so urgent. She saw annoyance, not worry, in Red's expression. It did not appear that Rock's parents truly cared for him. But they obviously needed him, for some reason.

Next, Red addressed all three stillroom workers at once. "Capability Reader will be home after your rest-days. He will be holding an important meeting here. I am closing the stillroom until it's over. Shim, you are to help Capability with his preparations for the meeting. Willow and Naesy, you will help Juliette in the kitchens. That's all. Enjoy your rest-days."

As soon as Red had gone, Naesy groaned aloud. Shim only turned his attention back to the spices he had been pounding in the big stone mortar.

"The last time Capability's Harvester friends came to visit, he tried to get Red to make me wear skirts all the time," Naesy explained, looking at Willow. "He said Harvester women don't wear trousers." With a glance towards Shim, she added, "Shim wants to be one of Capability's people and join the rich Harvesters. You should probably stay out of Capability's way though, Willow."

Realising that this was the first almost friendly thing Naesy had ever said to her, Willow came to a decision. Later, when Naesy gathered a trayful of packets of dried herbs for the storeroom, Willow picked up the heavy jar of pickled oxroot and followed her out into the passage.

"What do you do on the rest-days, Naesy?" she asked. "Shim's offered to take me to all sorts of places. Couldn't you come, too? I like it better when the three of us are together."

This was not entirely a lie. Willow did not want to spend three days alone with Shim. She had been planning to go out on her own this time, but Shim had been really persistent. He had offered to show her the river and the spice ships, and the markets and the square of fountains. She had been trying to think of an excuse to refuse.

Naesy balanced the tray on her hip and pulled open the storeroom door. She moved aside to let Willow set down the heavy jar. "I have things to do," she said. "It's the only time I can go to the laundry."

Willow began to help her take the herb packets off the tray and return them to their places on the shelves. "You don't get any rest at all, do you?" she said. "You care for your family when you go home in the evenings, as well as on rest days. Couldn't I come and help you? I don't really want to go round the city with Shim. I've seen lots of it anyway, with Rock."

"Your Rock didn't show you Riverside though, did he?" Naesy replied, slamming the last herb packet into place. "Well, if you're stupid enough to want to go there when you don't have to, be my guest. Juliette said I could take a bag of mixed beans and a bundle of firewood, but I've got to come back here and get them tomorrow morning. It's not a good idea to risk carrying anything like that through Riverside close to sunset. Meet me in the kitchen first thing."

So the next morning, Willow stayed in the kitchen after breakfast, waiting for Naesy. Juliette was kneading three days worth of bread dough. She explained that a cook's rest days could not start until the household was provided with enough food to see them through.

The first thing Naesy did when she arrived was to lean towards Willow's face and sniff. "You haven't taken pungent syrup, then," she said. "Are you brave enough to go to Riverside without protection?"

"If other people have to live there, I don't see why I should be afraid of visiting," Willow answered. "You live there and I don't smell pungent syrup on you."

Naesy shrugged. Then, after asking Juliette's permission, she went to rummage in the food store. "Grab this bag of mixed beans, Willow," she called out. "I'll get some vegetables. We'll take a bit of flour as well. That'll make a feast."

The bag of beans looked enough to serve twenty people. Willow knew that at least twelve well-grown bean plants of several different kinds would have been needed to produce such a quantity. Not for the first time, she wondered just how much food had to be regularly brought into the city from elsewhere.

Naesy filled an old leather bag with four carrots, two turnips and two large onions. Then she hauled the bag over her shoulder and lifted the strap over her head so that the vegetables hung below her chest. She found another bag to fill with flour and passed it to Willow, who attached it to her belt.

"It's quite a walk," Naesy said. "I'll have to carry the firewood. Even though I'm younger than you, I'm used to it."

Willow did not dare to argue. She was afraid that Naesy was probably right.

A bundle of firewood tied with twine was standing ready outside the kitchen door. Naesy put wads of sacking on her shoulders to stop the twine from cutting into them. Then she led the way through the garden, bent forward under the load.

Flurries of sleet swirled in the air. Willow pulled up the hood of her cloak. Naesy wore a thin jacket over her blouse. Her black windblown curls remained uncovered. Willow remembered that Naesy had already walked all the way from Riverside once that morning.

They passed the bath house at Uphill Corner. Shim had told them he planned to go there later on, since Willow had declined his offer to show her more of the city. Following Naesy, Willow soon left the gravelled streets of the rich districts behind.

A muddy path beside a poultry-trader's sheds led to a street with tall, plain wooden buildings on either side.

"They're small warehouses," explained Naesy. "Not the kind full of poor Riverside workers. These are just places to store things until they're sold. Capability Reader's got one. He spends most of his time there when he's not on harvest runs or messing about with his Harvester friends. That's why we don't often see him. I don't know what he does in there except sort his stock and count his coin."

"So he hasn't got one of those big warehouses the news-sheets are always going on about?"

Naesy laughed. "No. Capability's only a little Harvester. It's the big ones who own the warehouses where they pay you small change to work 'till you fall over. Capability used to be a spice merchant. Now he's got himself a couple of wagons for harvest runs, but everyone knows he's hoping to make himself rich enough to play with the big boys one day. I listen to Rust and Juliette gossiping in the kitchen after you and Shim have started work. I know all about how Capability Reader wishes he was richer. Maybe then he'll get a bigger warehouse where his workers can process the things he brings back from the Forest. He'll make even more coin that way."

Willow frowned. "The harvest is killing the Forest," she could not help muttering.

"Everything dies," Naesy replied, sounding unconcerned. "The harvest gets us honeywood and water pipes and wood to burn and food to eat. And work and coin."

Leaving the small warehouses behind, they followed another muddy path. Then they climbed a steep bank topped with scrawny hezzleberry bushes.

"Now," said Naesy, when she reached the top, "you can have your first view of stinking Riverside."

Willow scrambled up to stand beside her, taking care to avoid knocking the load of firewood. The path ahead angled sharply downhill, into a scrubby area of pasture. There, an old man was grazing a goat which was tethered to his arm. Beyond the pasture was a muddle of buildings.

They were not built in neat rows and divided by streets. Each building was different. They all seemed to have been separately constructed at different times, from any old left-over or thrown away materials the builders could find. Some looked as if they would blow away in the next strong gale. All of them were visibly occupied. There were bonfires and a few smoking chimneys. The cries of children sang on the wind. Somewhere, someone was playing a wooden flute. A sharp smell of decay and untended privies accompanied that of the smoke from whatever was burning on the bonfires.

"It stretches all the way from here to the river," Naesy said. "You can see a couple of the big spice warehouses by the wharves, look. And the masts of the spice ships."

Willow stared at the distant, grey water of the spice river and the huge forbidding shapes of the warehouses. The wind blew wisps of her hair into her eyes. Her shoulders and arms ached from carrying the beans.

"That's Farside Cliffs over there on the other side of the water," added Naesy, "with the villages of Farside and Mudbank."

"The city is so big," Willow said. "I thought I'd seen the wharves, but they were different ones. How many are there?"

"Loads," said Naesy. "Come on, my back's aching." She began to lead the way down the hill into the mass of dwellings.

As they went, Willow said, "My hillish best friend's brother Trasket came to the city before the winter. There was a dirty, scruffy Harvester that came to our village and he said that if Trasket worked in the city, coin would be sent home to the village each summer at longest days. It was all lies, wasn't it? Trasket would have ended up here, wouldn't he?"

"Yes," Naesy answered. "If the city elders send villagers any coin at longest days it's because some village elders have complained their youngsters have all come here and then disappeared." She shifted her shoulders under the uncomfortable load of firewood. "If your friend's brother's not dead by now, he'll be working in a warehouse. The only reason you're not, Willow, is that Red wants to use you to find her son. That's what Rust told us on your first day. And no coin from a warehouse worker ever got back to their village, they just don't earn enough. It sounds like you were visited by a travelling Harvester. They're usually small spice merchants who've gone out of business. Juliette says they're all in debt. Sometimes the elders pay them in coins and dusk to travel about, telling old-fashioned villagers about the city. It's to bring in more trade. I don't know about bringing in the youngsters. Surely we don't need any more Riversiders."

It was hard for Willow not to take offence and insist right there and then that the hill villagers were not old-fashioned. But she did not want to upset Naesy just when they had started to become friends.

They passed a troupe of young Riversiders whose tatty clothes were decorated with dirty scraps of ribbon and feathers, reminding Willow of those she had seen in Blue Fountain Square.

"Walk behind me, Willow," Naesy instructed. "Watch for children trying to steal my firewood. They'll stop if they think you've seen them. If you get a good look at a thief and tell an elders' person, the thief gets branded. That's why Riverside's more dangerous after dark when you can't see people's faces."

Willow did as she was asked, walking close behind Naesy's back. Several tiny children started to cluster around them, trying to get near enough to steal a stick or two of firewood. Willow shook her head at them and glared sternly until they went away.

Then a child that looked like a bundle of rags with arms hurled itself at Naesy's knees, yelling, "What've you got for us?"

"I've got a feast and a visitor," Naesy answered, wriggling herself free. "Iris, this is Willow. Willow, this is my sister, Iris."

EIGHT

Naesy's home was a one-room wooden shack, cold and very draughty. The floor was just soft earth, flattened with use. There was a fireplace with a rough chimney built of odd stones in crumbling mortar. The ashes in the hearth were long cold.

A few household things were stored on shelves made from planks fixed onto one wall. There was one large bed, constructed out of roughly shaped bits of scrap wood. Tumbles of soiled clothes lay on top of it.

A thin, grey haired woman sat wrapped up in several blankets on the only chair in the room. Pulling the bag of beans out of Willow's grasp, Iris dropped it into the woman's lap.

"It's a feast for us, Carlina, and this girl's name is Willow," Iris cried out happily.

Stepping forward, Willow gently lifted the heavy bag, thinking it might bruise the legs of the frail looking woman. Naesy was busy unloading the bundle of firewood, but she nodded towards the shelves on the wall. Willow set the beans down in a clear space on one of them. Detaching the bag of flour from her belt, she placed it beside them.

"Pleased to meet you, Willow. My name is Carlina Rootgrinder," said the woman, who was obviously Naesy's sick mother. Her voice was quiet and dry, sounding very weak.

"I'll light the fire later," Naesy said. "Iris, is there water?"

"Yes. I carried a full bucket... well, Jackson helped a bit, really," Iris replied.

Naesy was already checking a battered old bucket wedged against the wall. "Good. You can run over to Jackson's right now and ask to borrow the big pan. Tell them we're soaking beans and they can join us for a feast after dark. You and Jackson bring the pan back here first, then you can go and invite the Noppets and the Old Roaders, but no one else or there won't be enough food for everyone."

Iris began hopping about in excitement. When she stopped and bent forward to tie up something around her foot, Willow saw that she wore strips of thin leather and rag in place of boots. Hunched over, the child looked like a small pile of discarded old clothes, but she bounced up again with a large smile.

She took off for the door, then turned back. "What about Minnow Linepuller? He's my newest friend. I can't leave him out."

Naesy had begun picking out kindling sticks from the firewood bundle. "All right," she replied without looking up. "You can ask Minnow and his mother, but absolutely no one else and I mean it."

Iris skipped out of the door. It banged closed behind her, making the fragile walls shake.

While Carlina Rootgrinder dozed in her chair, Willow helped Naesy put together a low table out of two planks and some cracked wooden boxes that had been stacked against the wall next to the shelves.

"We can't leave anything on the floor," Naesy explained. "There are wharf mice nests and rat tunnels under it. The damp's worse on the ground, too. There's never enough firewood. We can't light a fire every day, so nothing ever dries properly."

"Rats? I thought the Harvesters had poisoned them all," said Willow in surprise.

"Of course there are rats. The Harvesters didn't bother to poison the ones in Riverside. Anyway, they can't get all of them, there are too many. And more rats can always come into the city from outside, can't they?"

Soon, Iris returned, carrying the big pan with her friend Jackson. The children tipped the beans into it, and the bucketful of water. Naesy reached into her belt purse and handed Iris a small coin, then the children set off to refill the bucket again. Looking into the big pan, Willow noticed that the water in which the beans were soaking was a murky brown colour. It smelled of rotting leaves.

"Does the water come from a pump?" she asked Naesy.

"Not round here. We buy it from Drizzler Rainman's rain tanks. If he runs out of water or we run out of coin, we draw water from the river, but that's not something I'd recommend."

"Last summer must have been very hard, living here in the drought," Willow said, sympathetically.

"Uh-huh." Naesy suddenly seemed embarrassed. She looked towards Carlina, who was now obviously asleep.

"That's why I tried to get us out," Naesy said quietly. I suppose Shim told you why I was nearly branded."

"You stole dusk from a warehouse."

"It was that drain-crawler Marity Whiningtoad's fault. He offered me a silver disc for every trip I made for him. I thought if I could do it every day for two moons I'd be able to set us all up in a nice little room in the working district. I thought me and my brothers could find good work there and Carlina would get well because we could keep her warm and feed her properly. How was I to know Marity had no idea what he was doing and we'd both get caught on the first run? Well, Marity's been branded a thief, now. No trader or shop owner will ever serve him and I hope he starves."

"What are your brothers' names?" Willow asked, wanting to change the subject because Naesy seemed so upset.

"Jaren and Enimet. Jaren's only eight summers and Enimet's nine summers. They got work in a spice warehouse last summer. The work leader only wanted children, so they could get inside the grinders and clean them. I was too big. It's awful work and the pay's hardly anything, but we need every little coin we can get. They don't come home 'till after dusk. You won't see them. You should leave in time to get at least as far as Uphill Corner before it gets dark."

"Do warehouse workers get rest-days?"

"No." Naesy picked up a cloth and began busily wiping dust and dirt from the storage shelves on the wall.

Taking a twig broom from beside the chimney, Willow began to sweep the floor.

Carlina Rootgrinder stirred in her chair as if she had just woken up, but she must have been listening to the last part of the girls' conversation. "I want those boys out of there as soon as we can afford it, Naesy," she whispered. "I got this cough from working in a warehouse. The spice dust..."

Carlina began to cough, then, and could not stop. She pulled a brown glass bottle from under her blankets, uncorked it and took small sips until the cough eased, at last. Willow tried to read the label on the bottle.

"It's silken syrup," said Naesy, who must have seen her looking. "Made from forest herbs. Red lets me bring home all the bottles that come out too cloudy to sell. There's usually quite a few. Silken syrup's really difficult to get right. Before I worked for Red we had nothing we could give Carlina. Sometimes I thought she'd cough her own insides out onto the floor, but Riversiders can't afford healers."

"Why didn't you use hedge winnow or make dew weed tea?" Willow asked. "They must grow somewhere round here and they always have a few leaves, even in winter."

"I don't know about them," Naesy replied. "I don't think they're on Red's stock list. Anyway, there's not always a fire to make tea."

Willow was thoroughly shocked. Everyone in Warner knew which plants would ease coughs and other everyday illnesses in people and animals. Tree speakers and animal talkers were only consulted for difficult cases. And they would always help, even if they knew they would not get anything in payment.

Carlina's cough had obviously weakened her a great deal, even now she had the silken syrup. It horrified Willow to think anyone could become so ill when the plants that could have helped probably grew nearby.

"Oh!" she said, irritably, "I could so easily have healed something like that in its early stages."

"What do you mean?" Naesy asked. "How? You're not a healer."

"I was a village tree speaker. They heal people."

"I thought tree speakers just talked to plants."

Carlina had finally stopped coughing and fallen asleep again. Taking a deep breath, Willow decided to be bold. "I know that someone in Red Dawnweaver's stillroom put fresh greenroot leaves in a batch of salve," she said quietly. "Was that you, Naesy?"

Naesy had been folding a tattered blanket. She straightened up suddenly. "What are you suggesting?" she asked sharply.

"I'm suggesting you can tree speak, just like I can."

Naesy stared at her in silence.

"Tree speakers in the hills and the marshes are respected and taught to work as healers," Willow carried on. "We heal plants and animals sometimes, but they don't need a lot of help. Most of the time we heal people. We can talk to plants and we can talk to people, so we learn about both. That makes us good healers."

Naesy's expression had changed. She looked interested and no longer angry.

"Will you tell me about it? How did it happen?" Willow asked, guessing that she had been right to suspect Naesy of putting greenroot in the salve.

"It was just an odd feeling," Naesy answered. "When Jaren and Enimet started working in the warehouse I used to walk them to the door every morning, but only the workers are allowed in. Sometimes I hung round outside, worrying if they were all right and thinking about them in there. I started feeling something strange."

She paused, looking down at her hands.

"Go on," Willow encouraged her.

"In the warehouses, often sacks of dusk are left unlabelled and stored in between sacks of other plants, to make it harder for thieves to find them," Naesy explained. "One day, I was thinking about my brothers as usual. Then I got this feeling that a sack of dusk was just the other side of the wall, that's all. The same thing kept happening every day after that. In the end, I took a couple of bets from warehouse workers on their way in. It was a stupid thing to do because even if I was right, I couldn't go in after them to check, could I? They swore I'd got it wrong, but Marity started chatting me up. In the end I figured out why. I'd been right all along. And I believed that toad-nosed slop-belly when he said he could make me rich."

"Did you know you were tree speaking?"

"I didn't think about what it was, I just did it. I'm not one of those silly kids that dress up like hillish drummers and talk about the old ways."

"But then something happened with greenroot?"

"I like to sit in the pasture sometimes, before I come home and I've got to look after everyone else," Naesy admitted. "I was sat there in the grass one day. It was just after I'd started working for Red. I was so bone-tired. Red had shouted at us because we'd only finished half the salve pots she wanted. I was only having a quick rest in the pasture. I thought I'd fallen asleep and it was a dream, but then I realised it wasn't. There was this little plant I felt drawn to. I tried to ignore it, but it kept niggling at me. I touched it and the leaves felt good on my skin. Somehow I knew they would go well in a salve. Another plant made me feel less tired just looking at it, so I touched that one too. Then I knew it wanted me to eat some, so I did. I was all right afterwards."

"Greenroot and a whippet plant, I expect," said Willow, thinking that it was a shame Naesy had not talked to more of the plants. There would probably have been some dew weed around the edges of the pasture.

"That time, I guessed what must have happened," Naesy went on. "By then I'd heard Caul Driver talking to Red about tree speakers and the other talents. So that's when I realised what had gone on with the dusk. I've never tried it again. I wouldn't dare. What if Capability Reader found out?"

"You did put greenroot leaves in the salve, though," Willow reminded her.

"Well, Red had been shouting and it wasn't fair. I was angry. It was a good salve, wasn't it?"

"Let me teach you to heal and to tree speak properly," Willow offered. "We can work here in secret on our rest days."

"And I can heal Carlina?"

Willow looked sadly at Naesy's mother, who had not stirred for some time. She did not want Naesy to blame herself if nothing could save Carlina.

"I don't know if that's possible," she admitted.

Naesy punched the bed in front of her with her fist.

"Well then there's no point, is there?" she said. "No thanks."

Willow had learned enough from Rinnet and Yenna to remain silent. Naesy went over to the makeshift table and began furiously scrubbing at its surface with a wetted rag.

As she waited out Naesy's storm of grief, Willow found herself wondering just how many other people in the city might have talents that remained unused for lack of training.

NINE

Leaving Iris with Carlina, Willow and Naesy set off for the laundry. They each held one handle of a frayed basket full of dirty clothes and bedding. Naesy had explained that all the wet washing would have to be moved indoors at night to be dried by the fire. Anything left outside overnight was likely to be stolen. All the firewood Naesy had carried from Juliette's store would be gone by morning.

Many Riversiders were busy outdoors. Willow saw people weaving baskets, carving wood, tending bonfires, and sorting through crates and large boxes. These seemed to contain old clothes and other things discarded as rubbish by people in richer areas of the city.

Although some of the Riverside homes were built out of planks or logs, others were little more than tents. So she was not surprised to notice that a lot of Riversiders had coughs and skin diseases. Their homes must all be at least as cold and damp as Naesy's. These people clearly did not get enough to eat, they were so thin. Willow could see for herself that city-dwellers who were healthy and well fed had no need to fear the Riverside sickness. It was the result of being poor.

One young man was just sitting on the ground in front of a small, dirty tent, staring down at his own hands. He did not look up as Willow and Naesy walked by.

"A lot of them spend any coin they can get on dusk," Naesy explained in a low voice, "It's their only way out."

"He'll get very cold sitting there without moving for so long."

"He'll be dreaming awake by now. He doesn't feel the cold or anything else. It's his choice."

Willow looked curiously back over her shoulder at the man, thinking she recognised something in his expression. "Could people in that state be sort-of tree speaking?" she whispered. "I mean, could dusk be talking to them even after they've swallowed it? I listened to some once – I didn't actually take any – and it was really strong. It's a bossy plant and it's close to being poisonous."

"I've never taken it either, so I wouldn't know if it's anything like tree speaking," Naesy replied. "I don't have to be a tree speaker to know how poisonous dusk is. I've seen enough dreamers like him to know I'd be stupid to try it."

They walked on in silence for a while. Willow found herself thinking of the many Riversiders who died young. The high death rate was reported in the few news-sheets that did not just print what the Harvesters told them to. She wondered if it might be the real reason Harvesters like Wolf got sent out of the city to spread their lies. Perhaps the Harvesters needed young villagers to replace the warehouse workers that died.

If so, it was yet one more example of the harm caused by Harvester greed. If only they were not the ones in charge of the city, she thought to herself. Surely Riversiders had no real reason to want to behave like Harvesters. In fact, Riverside would be a good place to encourage a return of respect for the talents. Remembering the drumming in Blue Fountain Square and the young Riversiders there, she wondered if Syme and other Rats like him had already started doing so.

"There's the laundry," Naesy said, interrupting Willow's thoughts.

She pointed to a long, low thatched shelter. Underneath it, Willow could see rows of troughs arranged either side of a central drain. "Is that the riverbank behind it?" she asked, surprised that they had come so far.

"It is," agreed Naesy. "Help me put our stuff in for soaking, then you can have a closer look at our great river if you want. Haven't you been close to it before?"

"Yes, but that part looks different. It's almost wild," Willow replied.

Naesy took a coin to the attendant, leaving Willow to grasp both handles of the laundry basket and lift it awkwardly to the nearest free trough. Clouds of spice dust rose up from the clothes belonging to Naesy's brothers, making her sneeze.

When Naesy returned, she explained how to plug the drain outlet and adjust the valve from a water pipe to fill the trough.

"You thought only rich places have water pipes, didn't you?" she said. "Well, maybe Riverside's got something your old village hasn't, after all. This is river water, but it's been left to settle in that great tank over there, so there's no muck in it."

"Did Riversiders build the laundry for themselves?"

"Yes, but the elders paid for the materials. There's another one going up at the other end of Riverside, too. The elders say the warehouse workers will keep healthier if they wash the spice dust off their clothes regularly. I hope that's true, for my brothers' sakes. But having a laundry also keeps us away from the actual river, so we don't make the water even more filthy and smelly than it is already. And we have to pay to use the laundry. Most of the coin goes back to the elders. Go and have a closer look at the river now if you want. I'll stay here, I've seen enough of it."

So Willow went alone out of the riverward side of the laundry. She stood in the long grass and last summer's dead seed heads. The water looked black, suggesting it was very deep, even close to the shore.

There were no river craft near to the laundry, although there were two big spice ships tied up alongside tall wooden wharves some distance downstream. She had seen similar ones when Rock had taken her to look at the river, soon after they had first arrived. Back then, she had stood on a very different part of the bank, surrounded by trading booths selling highly-spiced snacks and expensive trinkets. Willow had stared and stared at all those beautiful goods for sale and wished she could buy some. Rock had warned her to save her coins for food, water and lodging. Now some thief had most of the coins Goshi had given them. Thinking back, Willow almost wished she had spent more of them while she had the chance.

Inland, behind the ships, loomed three huge warehouse buildings. Turning away from the dismal sight of them, she looked straight out across the water, instead. In the distance were black and brown cliffs, rising to the places Naesy had called Farside and Mudbank.

The river smelled strongly of rotting things, but there were other smells blown in on the wind. Willow caught hints of spices, and sometimes something fresh and salty that she thought might be the sea. She had never been to the coast, but knew it was where the river led, and where the spice ships sailed to reach the spice lands.

Not very long ago, the city elders had all been spice merchants, not Harvesters. The harvest of the Forest was a new thing. The elders of Willow's home village remembered a time before Harvesters existed. But change seemed to happen faster in the city. Suddenly, for the first time, Willow fully appreciated that the changes would never stop. No wonder news-sheet stories bothered Capability Reader. With city people always talking, reading and thinking, everyone must be constantly changing their minds about things. Gossip and news-sheet stories would always tend to push people's thoughts in one direction or another.

A blue-green wither bird flew out of the bushes nearby, fluttering noisily past her shoulder. Distracted, she watched it fly out over the river. It returned to the land after only a short time.

Watching the bird caused Willow to think about the talents again. A good animal talker could sometimes get very useful information from a witherbird. They were particularly clever at spotting hidden predators. Back in Warner, she had once seen Old Jesty remove a snake from beside the cart bridge after _talking_ to a witherbird.

Here in the city, there must still be plenty of people who knew the talents were real, Willow reasoned. They must do, if the harvest of the Forest had begun in living memory. Everyone pretended not to believe in the talents right now, but that was only because the Harvesters were so powerful.

Growing tired of the strong reek of river water, Willow turned and headed back inside the laundry. At least there, the rank smell of the water was overpowered by the scents of various soaps, as well as the strong spicy fragrance of warehouse workers' clothes.

Rolling up her sleeves, she began to help Naesy with the exhausting tasks of soaping, rinsing and wringing. By the time they started hauling the basket of clean laundry back through Riverside, her arms felt weak and shaky.

Back at Naesy's home, they hung up the dripping washing over a thin cord of slackvine strung along an outside wall.

"Naesy," Willow finally dared to say as they worked, "if there were Riversiders who could tree speak, they'd know how to get food and medicines from wild plants. And if there were animal talkers, they could talk the rats away from houses. You found a talent, even though you didn't want one. What if other Riversiders have done, too?"

Naesy gave her a scornful look. "In case you've forgotten, the city's run by Harvesters who wouldn't allow people to start talking about the talents again, let alone using them," she answered.

Later, they both walked back to Capability Reader's house, leaving Iris to guard the laundry and take it inside once it had stopped dripping. Naesy had decided to collect another load of firewood from Juliette's huge store and carry it home well before dark. After that, she and her family, and their friends, would enjoy their 'feast' of bean stew.

Feeling very guilty, knowing that Naesy would still be looking after her family in Riverside, Willow planned to stay in and do nothing much on the following day. Otherwise, she feared she would be too tired by the end of rest-days to begin her paid work again.

The girls entered the kitchen, where they found Shim Dealer sitting in Juliette's rocking chair and munching a wrinkled apple.

"Hey girls, why don't you come with me to the Wildfire Tavern tonight?" he asked as soon as he saw them.

Naesy sat down on the hearth, hunched herself into a tight ball and shut her eyes. She looked almost asleep on her feet, yet she still had to walk home.

Willow glared at Shim. She ached all over. "We're rather too tired," she said, coldly. "Perhaps another night."

Shim had the decency to look embarrassed. He went off to the pantry, collecting three plates of cold food and three mugs of best cider.

"How about tomorrow?" he asked, after they had all begun to eat.

Willow was about to refuse for the second time when Naesy banged her mug on the hearthstone, spilling a lot of the cider.

"How can I?" Naesy snapped. "I can't spare coin for entertainments."

"It can be my treat," Shim replied. "To prove I'm not the unfeeling lump of ice you two seem to think I am. We can go to the Woodbox. We won't have to pay to get in and I'll buy you food and drink. It won't cost either of you one coin."

Naesy looked very happy all of a sudden. "It's a deal, Shim Dealer!" she said. "I've never been in a tavern as an ordinary customer instead of giving out samples for the stillroom. Just for once, I'd like to do what normal city workers do instead of being a poor Riversider. I'll meet you here tomorrow evening."

Then Willow thought she understood why Naesy did not want to develop a talent. Naesy obviously did not want to feel even more different than she was already. So, since visiting a tavern seemed so important to Naesy, Willow agreed to go along as well.

TEN

The Woodbox tavern was by one of the wharves. It was a long walk from Red and Capability's house. Inside the tavern, there were no welcoming fires or bright lamps burning. Willow's breath made steam, visible even in the dim candlelight. The place smelled of cheap wax, burned spices, stale sweat, spilt ale and grain alcohol. Keeping her cloak tightly wrapped around her shoulders, she did not even bother to lower her hood.

"This isn't what I expected," Naesy commented.

They both kept close behind Shim as he made his way to the food and drink counter. Once he had bought three very small cups of ale and a bowl of fried root vegetables, he pointed with his elbows to a dark corner where two other girls were already sitting.

"We'll join them," he said, cheerfully. "They're friends of mine."

The seated girls wore elegant red dresses with matching short cloaks. As Willow came close to them, she realised they were twins. One held a small jewelled knife and was twisting the hilt between her fingers, absent-mindedly playing with it.

"Hello Shim!" the other girl cried out. "We haven't seen you in ages. Is this them?"

"This is Willow and this is Naesy," he answered, as all three sat down on vacant stools around the table.

"It _is_ them," said the girl with the knife. "One from Riverside and one from the hills. This is so exciting!"

Willow frowned at the pair of them, not liking the idea that she might have walked all the way to this murky tavern just to provide novelty for Shim's friends. She remembered that Naesy had wanted a night off from being a Riversider.

"Please introduce us to your friends, Shim," said Naesy, coldly. "And how come you only bought us ale when they've got grain alcohol?"

Ignoring her question, Shim introduced the twins as Semeley and Hinton Greylight. Semeley was the one with the knife.

Willow did not recognise the names. But she saw that Naesy looked suddenly much more interested, leaning forward to stare closely at the two girls.

"I don't suppose your father knows you come here," Naesy said to them.

Semeley pointed the tip of the knife at her. "That's none of your business," she said. "And don't think we'll give you coin to stop you telling him, either. We'll just have you killed to stop you talking."

"You can't scare me with your tiny knife!" Naesy snapped back. "You don't scare anyone. Don't you know the only reason you haven't been robbed of that knife for its jewels is because the people in this tavern recognise you. It's your father they're scared of, not you. Everyone knows Stern Greylight owns at least half the taverns round here. He's practically an elder."

Very deliberately, Naesy turned round to face Willow, so that her back was to the twins. "Shim must really be an unfeeling lump of ice after all," she said then, giving a long, sad sigh. "He only brought us here so he could show us off to Stern's daughters to impress them. A Riversider and a hillish girl, how very entertaining."

"No, I said I'd treat you to a night out and I am," Shim argued. "Naesy, why can't you ever cheer up? I often come here. I just happen to have told Semeley and Hinton who I work with, that's all. But if you want to carry on playing the rude, rough, Riverside girl, then go ahead."

Willow saw Naesy bite back a reply and stare angrily at her cup of ale.

It was Hinton who broke the silence that followed. "Perhaps the hillish girl's more friendly," she said, looking at Willow. "Tell us about the hills. Is it true some hillish people still believe in the talents?"

"Shim told us you used to think you were a tree speaker. Is that true?" Semeley burst out, eagerly.

"I am a tree speaker!" Willow answered loudly, unable to help herself.

As soon as the words had left her mouth she regretted them. She saw how Shim's eyes scanned the nearby tables, checking that no one had overheard.

Luckily, just then, the sound of music began to rise above the background noise of the tavern. It was enough to distract Stern Greylight's daughters, who both stood up to try and see where the sound was coming from.

"Is there a dancer, Semeley?" asked Hinton.

"I can only see musicians," Semeley replied.

"What a shame," said her sister. "I like the skin dances best. Do you remember how Jen Dawnweaver skin danced here, Sem?"

"We weren't even allowed to watch," her sister replied.

Willow gripped the edge of her stool with her hands. She realised that everyone else at the table was staring at her. It was impossible to tell if the twins had deliberately intended to shock her.

Semeley leaned forwards to look closely into Willow's face. "Look at her, Hinton. She didn't know. He never told her."

"I'm not surprised," said her sister. "You remember what he was like, Semeley? Always hiding secrets. Well, she ought to know. You tell her, I can't bear to."

Willow looked from the twins to Shim. He shrugged his shoulders at her, suggesting he did not know what they were on about. Willow had no idea whether to believe him, or not. Naesy was shaking her head and frowning, not seeming to understand what the twins meant, either.

"Now, listen to this, Willow," Semeley began. "We've heard all about how Jen Dawnweaver came back to the city with a hillish girl and then disappeared."

Noticing both twins glance at Shim, Willow thought it must have been him who had passed this gossip on to them. She lifted the little cup of ale he had bought her and drank its contents quickly, trying to ignore the taste.

"Our father once decided to buy Jen Dawnweaver's father," Semeley said next.

Willow frowned. "I don't understand," she said.

"Oh, I don't mean with coin, not exactly. Stern wanted to buy Capability with a promise that Hinton could be Jen's lover and living-partner, so Capability would be in Stern's debt."

Willow curled both her hands around the edge of her seat, struggling to take in this astonishing news.

"You were really jealous, weren't you, Semeley?" put in Hinton.

"I was jealous then, but I don't mind anymore. When I think back on it, Jen was always a bit too strange. I'm actually glad he ran away and you didn't settle with him after all, Hinton, because I don't think I'd have got on with him."

Then Hinton Greylight reached forward to pat Willow's hand. "We know you were Jen Dawnweaver's lover. Shim told us," she said. "I really don't mind, honestly. I don't think I'd have got on with him, either. Semeley's right, he's just too grumpy."

For once, Willow felt that Rock had every right to be as grumpy as he liked. Before she could speak the angry words she was thinking, Semeley began talking again.

"Anyway, let me tell you about Jen's skin dancing," she said. "Once... well, actually three or four times, Capability Reader made his son skin dance for coin in this very tavern. It was a punishment for something or other. I don't know what. Jen was always doing ridiculous things just to annoy his parents. Anyway, I know for a fact that our father encouraged Capability to punish him the way he did. The skin dances bring in an amazing amount of coin and the tavern owners get a cut of the profits. Stern wouldn't let me and Hinton come and watch, even though we begged him on our knees."

Willow remembered the skin dance scars on Rock's chest. It made her feel sick to imagine Rock behaving like the dancer in the Highfire Tavern. She thought back to the moonlit village skin dance they had both taken part in last summer, wondering how Rock could have been so calm about joining in.

No longer able to bear the company of Stern Greylight's daughters for another moment, she got to her feet.

"Give me a coin, Shim," she demanded. "I want some more ale – no, give me enough to get us some grain alcohol. Naesy's right, if we mean as much to you as your rich friends, we deserve the same drinks."

She did not fear the rough tavern customers as much as she feared knowing what the twins might tell her next. At first Shim looked as if he might refuse her. But some of the fury she was holding back must have got through to him. He passed her a handful of coins without comment.

Just as Willow was leaving the table, she noticed Naesy give her a sympathetic look. Willow turned away, wanting to hide how much the twins' words had hurt.

Rock had been cruelly treated by his father, that was clear enough. But he had once been promised to someone as rich as Hinton Greylight. Someone who could wear an expensive red dress and matching cloak just to visit a tavern. Someone whose twin sister owned a knife with jewels on the hilt. The more Willow thought about it, the more she thought that perhaps Shim and the twins had been right about the hills being dull, old-fashioned and uninteresting.

Her hood slipped down behind her head as she made her way through the tavern. She did not bother lifting it back up again. Still lost in thought, she stood in front of the counter, waiting her turn to be served.

"Evening, Willow," said a quiet voice, close to her ear. "I didn't expect to find you here."

She swung round in surprise. The speaker was Syme Deadlander, of all people. Instantly, every thought of Shim and his friends went straight out of Willow's head. She smiled at Syme. He had lost some of the crow feathers from his hat, but otherwise looked just the same as when she had last seen him, at Winter's Heart.

"Don't show you recognise me," he said. "Keep on looking straight ahead and talk quiet, see. Now, where did you get to? I know you left the lodging-house. Where's young Rock?"

It was very hard to look away from Syme. Willow gripped the coins Shim had given her and forced herself to keep watching the food and drink counter instead.

"Rock's gone," she said quietly. "I think he went to the marsh villages. He left me nearly all the coin, but it was stolen so I... I'm working for Red Dawnweaver, Rock's mother. No one else would give me work. Red only wants me to help her find Rock, though. They made me write him a letter and sent it to the Travellers' Exchange. I'm going to leave as soon as I can."

"Oh, that's bad," Syme muttered. "That's very, very bad, Willow. But now you're there, you must stay safe. Don't give them any reason to link you to the Rats. Not yet. When you leave, then we'll find you. Now, I need to tell you..."

But whatever it was that he needed to tell her, Willow never found out. Hearing a soft grunt and a shuffling noise, she finally turned to look, and found that he had gone. Looking across the tavern after him, she recognised yet another newcomer. Caul Driver was there, walking straight towards her and looking furious.

"Come with me right now," he said, the moment he reached her. "I don't know what Shim was thinking, bringing you here, but you can't stay. Stern Greylight won't be happy when I tell him where I saw his daughters, either."

"I don't understand," Willow complained. "It's rest-days. No one told me I couldn't come to a tavern." At least while Caul's attention was on her, he showed no sign of having noticed Syme, if he even knew who he was.

Taking hold of her shoulder, Caul pushed her towards the door into the street. Once outside, she found that Shim and Naesy were already there, waiting.

"Shim knows very well that this tavern is owned by Stern Greylight," Caul Driver told Willow, now that they were within Shim's hearing. "It doesn't look good for Capability's workers to be seen here, especially when they're in the company of Stern's daughters. Owners don't mix with customers. And workers don't mix with owners' daughters, either. Shim's ambitious, but he's going about it the wrong way and he shouldn't have involved you and Naesy. Let's go. I'll see you all home."

Willow did not mention that she worked for Red Dawnweaver, not Capability Reader. If even half of what Stern's daughters had said was true, she knew it would not matter. Capability obviously thought that whatever he wanted, he could have. Except when it came to someone like Stern Greylight, who was more powerful than himself.

Caul Driver hurried the three youngsters through the cold, dark, filthy wharfside streets.

"What were you doing in the Woodbox, elders' man?" Willow heard Naesy mutter under her breath, at one point.

"I heard that, Naesy," Caul snapped straight back. "I was hunting for Rats and it's a good job I didn't find any, or I might have fed Shim to them for their supper."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't know it wasn't allowed," said Shim, his teeth chattering with cold.

"Well, you don't go there again, boy, unless it's because Capability sent you," Caul replied.

After that, there was no more talking. He set such a fast pace they had no breath to speak. There were a lot of other elders' people about, especially near the wharves. In one wide street, Caul signalled the youngsters to stop. They paused in a slimy, stinking tanning-house doorway, while a huge wagon rumbled past. When Naesy started to complain about the smell of the tanning-house, Caul Driver put his hand across her mouth.

"Not a sound out of any of you here," he said.

Willow obeyed out of fear. They were in a part of the city she had never been to, before that night. She had no idea whether it was a safe place to be walking after dark, even in the company of an elders' man.

Later, as they reached more familiar streets, Naesy pulled on Willow's sleeve. "That was one of Capability's harvest wagons we saw back there," she whispered. "His brand was on the side. They don't usually move the wagons at night, though."

The girls had fallen a little way behind Caul and Shim, but Caul soon shouted at them for dawdling. They ran to catch up, and Willow had no chance to answer Naesy. When they came to Capability Reader's house, Caul sent Willow and Shim straight inside. He assured them he would personally walk Naesy all the way home to Riverside.

ELEVEN

In the days that followed, the girls saw nothing of Shim at all. He was working for Capability Reader while they helped in the kitchen. Shim was absent at mealtimes, even when Capability was at home. Willow assumed Capability must be keeping Shim busy somewhere outside the house.

Wages were paid straight after rest-days. Since Willow wanted to save all her earnings, Rust Dewsinger kept account of them for her and looked after her coin.

She enjoyed kitchen work, finding it not all that different from the stillroom. She and Naesy chopped vegetables, meat and fish, pounded and mixed spices, fetched, carried, cleaned and washed up. Juliette Ducknest liked to laugh, telling jokes or stories as she worked at her recipes. Naesy had stopped being rude to Willow at every opportunity, presumably because Willow had at last proved herself to be friendly. Once or twice, when they found themselves alone in the kitchen, Willow tried to talk about tree speaking, but Naesy would quickly change the subject.

"Not here," she would always insist. "Not in this house."

Capability Reader wanted new dishes served up at his Harvesters' meeting. So Juliette invented several different recipes every day, delivering them to Red and Capability for their evening meals. But Capability rejected one dish after another. According to Juliette, he found them all too boring, too strong, or too similar to dishes his friends would already have tasted. Gradually, Juliette's usual cheerfulness began to seep away.

One day, attempting to improve Juliette's mood by teaching her some hillish curses, Willow spoke every single curse she could remember, no matter how ridiculous. It was not long before the kitchen was once again filled with Juliette's loud laughter. Most of the curses were directed at Capability Reader, although no one said his name out loud.

"Dung licker! Slime-pisser! Oh, that's him all right," Juliette cried out. "How dare he tell me chicken stuffed with dawnpink flavoured cherries isn't interesting enough. Me, an experienced cook! He even said honeywood bowls are already out of fashion, but I don't believe it, and I'm the one that ought to know."

"Well I'm sick of rich folk going on about what food is, or isn't, in fashion," Naesy put in suddenly. "Riversiders can't get enough of any kind of food. Go on, tell us some more curses, Willow." She sounded angry, even though she was laughing.

"No, it's your turn now," Willow replied, suddenly feeling more serious. She had run out of hillish curses anyway. "Tell me some city curses from Riverside. I'd never heard drain-crawler before I met you. And what does leaf-face really mean?"

That was the insult Naesy had used on Willow's first day in the stillroom.

"It's the same as leafer," said Juliette, not seeming to notice Naesy's apologetic glance at Willow. "It means like the Green, I think. And then there's wildman."

"Those aren't Riverside curses, though," Naesy said quickly. "Try corpse-eater. Or slicker – that's someone who deliberately drops oil on a warehouse sorting table to spoil the Harvesters' stock without them noticing."

"That's a Rat, then," said Juliette.

"Is it? I thought the Rats want to get rid of Harvesters. But it doesn't matter who's at the top, Riversiders'll always be the ones at the bottom. I don't think a slicker has any kind of plan, they're just a nuisance. Well, how about dusk dreamer, or skin dancer?"

"What? Why is skin dancer a curse?" Willow asked immediately.

Naesy smiled at her. "I saw how shocked you were when Stern Greylight's daughters told you Jen Dawnweaver had danced in the Woodbox," she said. "And I was just as surprised as you, because he's Capability and Red's son. But there are plenty of young Riversiders who dream of getting paid for skin dancing. It's much better than the warehouses. It's something you do because you're poor, that's why it's a curse."

Willow was about to explain about skin dances being something completely different in the hills, but Juliette spoke first.

"Have you ever seen a tavern skin dance, Naesy?" she asked. "Some of them are lovely really, though I'd be happy if they left out all that silly cutting and bleeding. That's just to make it more exciting, I suppose. I do remember that business with Jen, but it wasn't anything much. It was to punish him for running away. He'd been visiting the Wanderers. Personally, I don't see much wrong in that, either. Wanderers are strange, but they must be good people or the elders wouldn't let them camp so close to the edge of the city every summer. I like to go there myself when they're there, to buy a bit of dimment bark and some of those coloured beads they bring."

Willow listened carefully, hoping this would turn into one of Juliette's longer stories, and tell more about Rock's life before he came to the hills. She was not disappointed.

"Our Jen loved to go there," Juliette continued. "He went every summer from the moment he was old enough to be allowed out alone. One day, when the boy was about fourteen summers old, Caul Driver saw him drumming and dancing with the Wanderers. They have skin dances of their own, you know. Very different to the ones in the taverns. Caul went straight and told Red and Capability what he'd seen Jen up to. Of course, Capability was furious. He was shouting so loud I could hear every word from right here in the kitchen. He said if his own son was going to dance with creatures who are no better than the Green, then as punishment he could put what he'd learned to use and earn coin skin dancing in a tavern. Rich folk like elders and Harvesters don't generally dance, see, Willow." She laughed at this, adding, "Cooks are allowed, though. I enjoy a good pair-ring dance on rest days."

"Was Jen ashamed at having to dance for coin?" Willow asked her.

"Well, I didn't see him do it," answered Juliette, "but I did see Capability straight after, and he seemed even angrier than before. That makes me think maybe Jen didn't mind at all. Maybe he enjoyed it."

Juliette then clapped her hands, signalling the end of her story-telling. "That's enough gossip for now, girls," she said. "I need to concentrate if I'm not going to mess up this next dish. The clear of the eggs has to be beaten up to a white foam, and one wrong move could spoil it."

For the next few days, Willow continued to think over this new information about Rock's past, trying to imagine the details of what had happened. She found it easy to believe Rock might have pretended to enjoy performing in a tavern, just to annoy his father even more. But she wondered how Rock had felt inside. She had heard of the Wanderers, although she had never seen them. They had not been near her home village since long before she was born.

Capability continued to reject every one of the new recipes. Soon, not even hillish curses could make Juliette smile. She sent Willow and Naesy to the stillroom to search their store cupboard for any edible herb or spice that had not yet been tried as flavouring. Between the three of them, they came up with several new combinations, none of which satisfied Capability.

On the last day but one before the Harvesters' meeting, Willow tidied the stillroom cupboard after Naesy had set off home. It would not do for Red to check it and find it in a mess. Afterwards, returning to the kitchen for her supper, Willow found Juliette weeping with despair.

"There's just no more time to come up with something new," the cook sobbed. "Naesy's right, those Harvesters should eat neezle dumplings and be grateful. But Capability will punish me, I'm sure."

"I hope he doesn't make you skin dance in a tavern," Willow said, trying to make her laugh.

Juliette gave a very small smile. "No," she answered, dabbing her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. "He'll probably take me to help him with some work in a spice warehouse. That's what he did to the girl who used to help me in the kitchen, and she never came back."

Willow did not like the sound of that at all. She thought immediately of Shim. "Naesy told me Capability's warehouse is only a little one, just for storage," she said.

"Well that's right, but he's friends with those bigger Harvesters isn't he? Stern Greylight's got one of the big old spice warehouses. Big enough to process the plants from any number of forest runs as well as his spices. He's so rich they say he'll be an elder very soon. Now, why don't you take your supper up to your room, Willow. You don't want me spoiling your appetite. Give me some time to think while I tidy up here. Maybe there's something I've forgotten."

Willow did as she was told. In her room, after eating her supper, she got her old belt pouch from her travelling pack and took out Hest's carving. The little wooden creature always gave her comfort when she was sad or worried. She noticed that the carving had started to smell of honeywood, it had been so long in the pouch with her honeywood nut. That gave her the beginnings of an idea.

Reaching into the pouch again, she found the nut that Syme had given her. Since it smelled the same as honeywood, its flavour would not be new to Capability. But perhaps it could help find a new combination of flavours to try. After greeting the nut respectfully, Willow began to tree speak, telling it all about Juliette's problem. She had not risked using her talent in a long time, but there was no one else around to guess what she was doing. After a short conversation with the nut, Willow jumped up and hurried downstairs.

She carried the nut all the way to the kitchen, where Juliette was just putting out the lamps. Adding her own knowledge of cooking to what the nut had told her, Willow explained her sudden idea without telling how she knew.

"Put it to soak in milk, right now. Use half the milk in the morning to make dough. Use the finest flour. Leave the honeywood nut soaking in the rest of the milk, so if Capability likes it you can make an even stronger bread for his meeting. But for Capability's evening meal tomorrow, make honeywood nut flavoured bread. And sprinkle it with acet seeds when it comes out of the oven. Serve it with a billingsberry stew, like you made the other day. The honeywood, acet and billingsberry all grow close together in the Forest. Their flavours will fit each other and join up to make something else that's not like any of them on their own."

"Well I've got nothing to lose. I'll give it a try," Juliette agreed. "I've never seen a honeywood nut. Where did you buy it?"

"It was a gift from a friend," Willow told her. "And that's the other important thing. I need you to give me the nut back after you've used it. Don't throw it away."

"Oh I know all about honeywood," said Juliette. "You can use it again, can't you? I won't steal it from you, don't you worry. If this works, Capability and his Harvester friends can get their own honeywood nuts if they want more. And if it doesn't work... well, it won't matter, will it?"

So Juliette made the honeywood nut flavoured bread as Willow had suggested, serving it with a rich meat and billingsberry stew the following evening. Later on, Rust brought word to the kitchen that Capability Reader was finally impressed.

"At last!" Juliette almost shouted, sounding relieved and delighted. "Willow, I don't know what I'd have done without that recipe of yours."

Willow smiled, but dared not explain that much of the recipe came directly from the honeywood.

The next day, everyone prepared for the Harvesters' meeting. Willow and Naesy helped Juliette to make a huge quantity of the new special dish, but one honeywood nut was enough to flavour all the necessary bread. When Willow finally wiped the little nut dry and put in her trouser pocket, it smelled just as strong as it ever had been. Thanking it, she promised to find somewhere to plant it later.

The kitchen was too far from the front door for Willow to hear the Harvesters arrive that evening. However, soon afterwards she had to help Rust and Juliette carry platters of food into Capability's room. It was getting dark by then. Naesy had already returned to Riverside, but Willow and Juliette were expected to work late because of the meeting. There was still no sign of Shim.

In Capability's room, five other Harvesters were seated at the table with Capability and Red. The four men and one woman were older than Willow's employers, and even more richly dressed. As Willow entered the room behind Juliette, a man was saying, "... but with two of them, maybe three, there's more potential. How soon can we start?"

No one answered him, because everyone at the table stayed silent while the food was brought in. Willow could not tell if any of the Harvester men was Stern Greylight. She had no idea what he looked like. Capability Reader was tall, with long greying hair and pale eyes. Willow had seen him around the house in the past few days, although he had never so much as looked at her, as far as she knew.

"Now, here's a treat," Capability announced pompously. "A completely new dish, invented by our cook."

Juliette laid the bread platter on the table. "It was young Willow, here, that thought up the recipe for the bread," she admitted.

Willow kept her head bowed as she set the dish of condiments and a tray of serving spoons on the table. She felt as if all the Harvesters must be staring at her. Rust laid the large, hot stew dish down on a folded cloth, to protect the wood of the table. Then it was time to leave the room as the Harvesters resumed their meeting.

Earlier in the day, Willow had imagined secretly overhearing them talk about important plans. Then she had imagined herself passing valuable information to Syme Deadlander and the Rats. Now, she could not wait to get away from the Harvesters. In the actual presence of such dangerous people, she found herself more afraid than angry.

Later on, Juliette went to collect the used platters and dishes from Capability's room, leaving Willow in the kitchen washing the cooking pots. When Juliette returned, Rust came with her.

"Tidy yourself up, Willow. I'll finish that," Juliette said. "The Harvesters want to ask you about that honeywood nut. Rust will take you in."

There was no way to refuse. Willow felt her legs trembling with fear as she followed Rust. He put one hand under her elbow, knocking on the door of Capability's room with the other.

"They won't hurt you," he whispered, then led her inside.

"So, Stern's warehouse it has to be, then," Capability was just saying. Then he saw Willow. "Ah, here she is."

"Your son's lover, you say?" the strange Harvester woman asked loudly.

"No!" replied both Willow and Red at the same time.

One of the Harvester men leaned across the table, putting his face closer to Willow. "So," he said, "that was delicious bread. But I hear you're hillish. How have you learned so much about forest plants so quickly? I didn't think we'd sent any honeywood as far as the hills."

Willow considered telling the truth, that she had spoken to the nut and it had told her how to use it. The trouble was, they might not believe her. All the Harvesters around the table were staring at her. Wishing she could hide away from them, but knowing it was already too late, Willow realised this was her chance to speak up for the Forest at last. She forced herself to look back at the Harvester who had spoken, hiding the fear she felt inside.

"I think," she said, ignoring the exact question she had been asked, "perhaps the reason nobody's ever thought to use a nut instead of wood for honeywood flavour is that when the nuts are fresh, they're hidden inside a soft outer coating. Animals like to eat them, so the ripe ones are soon gone. I was given mine by a friend, but there might never have been a ripe nut collected on a harvest run. If you wanted to harvest the nuts, you'd have wait for them and let the rest of the tree live. For that, you'd have to leave the forest around it alone, too. The honeywood trees need acet vines for shade around their roots, and billingsberry bushes to feed the caterpillars of the moths that fertilise the honeywood blossoms."

"How do you know all this?" another Harvester asked, sharply. "Have you...?"

But Capability Reader held up his hand and the man never finished what he had been going to say.

"Is that true?" Capability asked instead, looking around the table. "Hasn't anyone harvested a ripe honeywood nut?" Then he turned back towards Willow. "Who is this friend? Who gave you the nut, Willow?"

She could not tell him, even if he might punish her for refusing, so she only shook her head.

"That's all then," Red put in quickly, before Capability could speak again. "Take her away Rust. I need her back in the stillroom at dawn."

As Willow left the room and the door closed behind her, she thought she heard Red and Capability arguing, but could not catch what they were saying to each other.

TWELVE

To Willow's relief, Capability Reader seemed far too busy to want to question her later about where she had got the honeywood nut. He kept Shim working for him, even when Naesy and Willow returned to Red's stillroom. After the meeting, the girls saw nothing of Capability or Shim for nearly a moon.

When, at last, Shim did return to work in the stillroom, he seemed changed. He refused to say a word about his time with Capability. Willow saw a tension in his face she did not remember noticing before. Whenever the girls questioned him about what he had been doing, they were met with silence. It was Juliette who told Willow that Shim was now back because Capability had gone on the first spring harvest run.

As the nights grew shorter, the working time in the stillroom stretched later and later. They used very few fresh plants, but Red occasionally sent her workers into the garden to pick some of the flowers used in her perfumes. Willow was so pleased to be out in the sunshine, she hardly minded the long evenings spent distilling the perfumes afterwards.

In the garden, plants had woken into leaf and flower. At last, she saw what Caul Driver had meant, when he told her the gardens in the city had flowers just because they looked nice. Although Red used some of the flowers for the stillroom, many of them were tended just to keep them decorative. Willow was interested in the amount of work that went into this. Once, she asked Rust if she could help, but he explained it was impossible. Two gardeners were each paid for five days' work there every moon. According to Rust, if Willow tried to help out, the gardeners would consider her to be taking their work, and therefore stealing their coin.

One day, when no one was looking, she chose a forgotten spot behind the staff privy to plant the honeywood nut. It was a slow-growing tree, so with luck it would take many, many seasons for the gardeners or anyone else to notice it. Piling leaf mould around the planting hole, to mimic the cover of acet vine roots, she wished the plant good growing and a long life. Without the right kind of moths, though, it would not produce nuts of its own.

There had been no news of Rock. Willow was both glad and disappointed. She did not want Caul Driver to track him to the marshes. Yet she did want to know what Rock was up to. Eventually, she would have saved enough of her wages to think about leaving Red's stillroom for good, and resuming her search for the Rats. After that, if Rock ever wanted to get in touch, he would have no way of finding out where she had gone. She had no intention of leaving any more letters at the Travellers' Exchange. Caul Driver might have a way of finding and reading them.

On rest-days, Willow often went to help Naesy in Riverside. Carlina continued to get sicker and weaker.

While they were out of Capability Reader's house, Naesy was willing to listen when Willow talked about tree speaking. She allowed Willow to teach her how to recognise some of the plants growing near her home. Then she even practised _listening_ to them, learning how to check which of their leaves were the strongest and best for picking, and what dosages to give Carlina. Once back in the stillroom, however, both Naesy and Willow were very careful never to talk about their tree speaking activities in front of Shim.

Capability Reader eventually returned from his harvest run, although he spent very little time at the house. Willow assumed he was supervising the unloading of his harvest wagons. He did not seem to need Shim, who remained with the girls, working for Red.

One sunny morning, Naesy did not arrive at the stillroom for work. As time went on, Willow grew more and more worried. She knew very well what had probably happened, since Carlina had not even risen from her bed for the past moon. Willow tried to carry on as normal, hoping Naesy had only overslept. Loud birdsong from the stillroom's open windows accompanied the sound of the small spice-grinder Shim was using. The noise combined with her worries to make Willow's head ache.

It was usually Naesy who went to the kitchens to collect the midday meal from Juliette. When the sun was at its height, Shim said, "She's not going to turn up is she? I'd better go and tell Rust she's not here."

"I'll do it," said Willow, thinking perhaps Rust might let her go to Riverside herself to find out what was wrong.

It was just at that moment that Red came into the stillroom. "Where's Naesy?" she demanded instantly.

After they had explained that Naesy was not there, Red absolutely refused to let either of them go looking for her. Instead, she said she would send Caul Driver to find out what was wrong.

"If there's any news, I'll make sure you both hear it," she promised, "but you are not to go to Riverside. Willow, I don't want you going there even on rest-days from now on. Not at longest days either. Shim, I want you to take care of Willow on rest-days. Show her some of the city's summer entertainments. Take her shopping."

Two days later, Rust and Red came into the stillroom together. They brought the news that Willow had been expecting. Carlina Rootgrinder was dead from Riverside sickness. Caul Driver had found out. He had also discovered that Naesy's brothers had lost their work at the warehouse, because they had not turned up on the morning of their mother's death. Caul had spoken to Naesy, who he said refused to come back to work. She would not leave her brothers and Iris.

"They'll all starve without coin," Willow said, looking directly at Red. "You must bring them here."

Red's expression remained stern. Eventually, Willow dropped her gaze, feeling hopeless.

"There is not room for all of them here," Red answered at last. "I have sent a message to Naesy, offering her a chance to live here if she comes back to work, but I cannot take her sister and brothers. The boys will have to find work for themselves."

After Red and Rust had gone, Willow wiped tears from her eyes. Having seen Riverside for herself, she knew exactly how the children were likely to end up with no source of coin. Yet Naesy was clearly not willing to leave them all alone, even to keep her place in the stillroom. For the rest of the day, Willow hardly spoke to Shim. She was too busy worrying about Naesy, and Iris, Jaren and Enimet.

Just after dusk, she went to see Rust in his room, thinking perhaps he would know of a way to help them.

"There's nothing you or I can do about Naesy," he told her, sadly. "Red has made up her mind."

Then he picked up a folded letter from the table. The seal was broken. "Red asked me to give you this," he said, handing it to her.

It was clear that Rust was deliberately attempting to distract her. Nevertheless, Willow's hands began to tremble as she unfolded the paper. It was a letter from Rock. He must have received her's, after all.

She promised herself she would not forget about trying to help Naesy. Then, after quickly thanking Rust, she took the letter up to her attic room to read it alone.

Willow

sorry

sorry your coin was stolen

be careful

please take care

I am well

from Rock

"Bum!" Willow said out loud. "Is that all? What do you mean? And where are you?"

If Rock had received her letter, he must be somewhere in the city. Perhaps she had been wrong to assume he still had feelings for Kezzy.

After sitting hunched over the letter for a long time, she crept down the stairs and went back to Rust's room, hoping to find him still working. Surely if Red wanted so badly to find her son, then Caul Driver had continued looking for him. Willow intended to ask Rust outright if he knew where Rock had gone.

Light shone around the edges of Rust's door. As Willow reached out to tap on it, she heard Rust's voice talking to someone. Pausing, Willow heard Capability Reader's voice reply. She nearly turned and ran straight back upstairs, but then she began to make sense of what the men were saying.

"I will not go and fetch him, Rust," Capability's rough voice rang out. "And I will not send the girl. If my son is living in Riverside he might as well stay there and rot along with Red's little pet. We'll manage without 'em."

While she was taking in this new information, Willow did not notice the door handle turn, or hear the opening of the door. Yet, all of a sudden Capability Reader was out in the hallway, his pale eyes looking down at her. Curiously, he did not seem angry, or even annoyed.

"Our little tree speaker has been listening outside the door like a mouse – or a rat, eh?" he said.

"I was just... I only wanted to ask Rust Dewsinger about the letter, f... from Rock, I mean Jen. Has... I mean, I wondered if you found out where he is." Willow tried hard to look as if she had not really heard any of the conversation from behind the door.

"You don't want my son. He's worthless," said Capability. "He's finally proved he's just not worth going after. But we can still use you, little tree speaker. I want you waiting for me outside the front door at dawn tomorrow. I've got a job for you."

Rust had come to stand in the doorway of his room. "Is it a dangerous job?" he asked. "Red doesn't want..."

"Red won't mind if I borrow her girl for one day," Capability interrupted. Then he walked off down the hallway without looking back, obviously quite certain he would be obeyed.

Rust gestured for Willow to come into his room. She stood and watched as he sat down in his chair behind the desk, bending forward and holding his head in his hands. His hands were shaking.

"I'll take my wages. I want to leave, right now," Willow told him. It was not what she had planned to say, but Capability had changed her mind.

Rock had told her what his parents were like, but she had not really understood. Now, she thought she did. She remembered what Juliette had said about another girl who used to work in the kitchen. Would Capability make Willow disappear too?

Rust lifted his head. "He wants you for something important," he said slowly. "Don't try to leave just yet. Go with him tomorrow. It's probably just some new process they're trying with the spices. As soon as he's moved on to something else and forgotten about you again, I'll gladly pay you your wages and help you get away. I'll make up some story to tell Red. Just don't go while Capability's got a use for you. He'll only send someone to bring you back."

On two previous occasions, Rust had promised Willow that no one would hurt her. She no longer believed him.

"Tell me exactly how often Capability Reader or Red Dawnweaver have already sent someone to watch me," she demanded. "Caul Driver went to my village searching for Rock... Jen. And it wasn't just coincidence that Caul was in the Travellers' Exchange when I was looking for work, was it? Did he arrange for all my coin to be stolen, too?"

"Can you tell me why you and Jen... split up?" Rust asked, without answering her questions.

"I don't know!" Willow snapped, "Perhaps you can tell me. I thought he'd gone back to the marshes to a girl he knew there."

Rust shook his head. "I don't know if Caul Driver paid someone to steal your coin at just the moment he had found you and Jen in the city, but it's certainly possible. And yes, he was looking for you as soon as he realised he'd lost track of Jen."

"Then..."

"Jen Dawnweaver probably disappeared just after Winter's Heart because he realised Caul Driver was following you both. He probably thought he was protecting you, Willow, but he hadn't counted on Caul following you instead of him."

Willow pounded her fist angrily into the wood of Rust's table, then regretted it straight away. "Sorry," she apologised to the wood as well as Rust. Her knuckles stung.

"I care about Jen," Rust said, picking up a scrap of paper and crumpling it in his fingers as he went on. "I remember when he was born. I always looked after him when I could. There were child-carers brought in when he was small, but none of them stayed more than a few seasons. It was the same with the tutors later on. But I was here all the time. I was the only person in the household he talked to about the real reason he ran away."

Rust looked hard at Willow before continuing. "He said he could hear the rats dying. I was able to tell him why. He didn't even realise he was animal talking, even though he'd learned a bit about the talents from the Wanderers. I went to some friends of mine in Riverside, to try and find someone who could help him. But he ran away before I got back."

Willow was curious to know who Rust's friends in Riverside might be, and whether he had guessed where Rock was hiding, long before Caul Driver had found him. But her thoughts soon returned to Rock himself.

"It hurt him a lot," she said quietly. "He wouldn't talk about it for a long time."

"I know," Rust agreed. After a long pause, he went on. "Well, there's nothing we can do about Jen right now, but what about you, Willow? You were a bit starved-looking when you turned up here. You started to fill out with a few moons of Juliette's cooking. Now you're fading again. What's wrong? It's not just Naesy, or even Jen, is it?"

"I just can't do this anymore," she whispered, to herself as much as to Rust.

"You still tree speak?" he asked.

"Yes." There seemed little point in lying.

"What does Red really plan for Naesy?" she asked next, hoping to find out as much as she could while Rust was willing to speak so openly.

"She plans to ask Naesy to live as her daughter," he replied, frowning as if he disapproved. "She'll dress Naesy up in fine clothes, take her out to entertainments and introduce her to her friends. That's all. Though I wish she'd consider taking the little ones as well."

"She wants Naesy to replace her son?" Willow asked.

Rust began to straighten out the crumpled paper. "Perhaps," he said. "But I promise you, Willow, if Red doesn't find someone to care for Naesy's brothers and sister, then Caul and I will do it."

Willow assumed he meant that he would pay Caul Driver to do it.

"You think Naesy will do what Red wants, don't you?" she said.

Then she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

THIRTEEN

A little after dawn, Willow stood beside Capability Reader on the steps at the front of the house. Capability's grey hair reached the shoulders of his sleeveless coat, just at the level of the top of her head.

"It shouldn't be long," was the only thing he had said, on arriving to find her obediently waiting there.

Rust still had charge of Willow's coin, so she had decided to follow his advice and go along with Capability, hoping he would soon lose interest in her. She was much too frightened to try and make conversation, so looked out at the garden beyond him, instead.

Soon, a closed carriage stopped at the gate. The face of the driver was hidden under the large brim of a leather hat. Leading the way, Capability strode down the garden path and opened the carriage door. Willow followed. Then, before she could protest, his hands grabbed her around the waist to lift her inside. Without saying a word to the driver, Capability climbed in after her, shutting the door himself.

Straight away, the carriage jolted, and set off along the street. Willow clutched at the edge of the hard seat, to stop herself falling against Capability. A tight curtain across the tiny window prevented her from seeing where they were going. She did not think Capability's little warehouse was far enough from his house for them to need a carriage ride to reach it. After a while, she recognised the smell of the filthy streets near the wharves. Then there was a stink of river water. Finally, there was a strong scent of spices.

"This is it," said Capability, who had not spoken at all throughout their journey.

As soon as the carriage stopped, he opened the door and stepped down. Willow scrambled to follow by herself, before he could touch her again. Blinking away the dazzle of sunlight, she looked up at an enormous warehouse. There was a smell of herbs and spices, so powerful it stung her eyes and throat. Coughing, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse.

Capability leaned down, talking quietly, close to her ear. "This is one of the busiest warehouses in the city, owned by Stern Greylight. Open day and night, never quiet. It still takes spices, but most of the work's in Forest plants, now. The wagons come in with raw harvest, and everything's sorted, processed and stored right here, until it's sold on. Stern makes more coin at every stage. If there was room, he'd take timber and meat, too. He's got plans to buy another warehouse soon."

Willow did not reply, and she kept her expression carefully blank. If he expected her to be impressed, she was determined to disappoint him.

The double doors at the front of the building looked big enough for harvest wagons to pass through, easily. Capability took Willow in through one of the many smaller doors in the side of the warehouse. She covered her ears against the noise, but there was nothing she could do to avoid the smell. Plant dust filled the air, forming visible clouds floating up towards the roof. Small windows, high in the side walls, allowed light in, but did not seem to be letting out much of the dust.

Capability Reader began walking between the rows of workbenches. Willow followed him. All around them, workers sorted, bundled, chopped and packed some of the many plants harvested from the Forest.

Willow saw that the enormous baskets by the workbenches were filled with dirty, uprooted plants, mixed in with soil, dead insects and small stones. Workers emptied the harvest baskets onto the benches to sort through their contents. Others then gathered up materials of the same type for processing. She thought it must take considerable skill to identify some of the harvested plants without tree speaking, they were so wilted and damaged.

"Nothing from the harvest is wasted," said Capability as they went along. "Stones go to the stone-sorters and metal-burners out beyond the city gates. Soil is kept to sell to gardeners, or to villagers near the city for their fields."

Willow saw leaves hung on drying racks, and trays of roots being put into ovens for slow roasting. Surrounding the central workbenches and equipment, were rows and rows of tall shelves, stacked with chests and sacks of stored goods. She stared at a nearby rack of drying leaves, from a plant she did not know. None of the leaves had been thrown away, so the withered, insect-bitten ones were dried alongside the ones that were sound. Whatever product they would be used for, was not going to be of best quality. In the hills, Willow had been taught to pick only sound and healthy leaves.

The walls nearest the drying racks had ventilation slats, letting in fresh air. Elsewhere, the atmosphere was thick, making it hard to breathe. Dust sprayed out from huge spice-grinders. And hot steam rose from giant boiling-kettles. If not for the ventilation, the plants on the drying racks would have rotted away before they could be used.

All the warehouse workers were dressed in thin, rough clothing. Some were without boots or shoes. Many of them were very young. Some had cloths tied over their faces, to keep them from breathing in too much of the dust. Nevertheless, it was obvious to Willow that most of them had chronic coughs.

The unhappiness everywhere was impossible to ignore, coming from plants as well as people. Willow was not trying to use her talent, and without touching anything she felt far less than she might have done when tree speaking on purpose. Even so, she knew the forest plants had been ripped from the earth in whole colonies. Now they were shocked and dying. Tree speakers only ever picked plants respectfully, having asked their permission first. Without the talents, the Harvesters would have no idea that they had done anything wrong. Presumably, Capability Reader could not feel the full horror all around him in the warehouse.

The only relief for Willow came as they passed some sacks of spices, lined up against the base of a wall of shelving. Focussing on them briefly, she sensed that the spices had been well picked and cared for. It seemed the people of the spice lands still knew how to work properly with plants. She brushed her fingers along the tops of two of the sacks, secretly greeting them as she walked by.

Suddenly, Capability stopped walking. He paused next to a towering pile of baskets of harvested forest plants, and grabbed Willow's wrist. At first she thought he must have noticed her tree speaking. He pulled her with him behind the baskets, into a shadowy corner out of sight of the rest of the warehouse.

Still fearing that he was going to punish her for tree speaking, Willow tried to pretend to feel brave. "What do you want me to do here?" she asked.

"You'll see," he answered. "First, there's something I want you to understand."

Willow recognised his expression as the same determined, hungry look that Wolf the travelling Harvester had shown, when he was preaching to the villagers of Warner. Whatever Capability was thinking about, he was absolutely certain he was right.

"You work for Red," he began, "and Red is my living-partner, which means you work for me."

Willow did not dare to argue with him.

"Harvesters believe that only living-partners should be lovers, did you know that?" he continued.

"Yes," she answered, not wanting to make him angry. She had no idea why he would want to start discussing such things at that moment, but his next words shocked her beyond caring.

"Workers are property, never lovers."

"People can't be property!" she cried out. "And I wasn't ever your son's lover, if that's what you're worried about."

"I was not thinking of my son," he replied.

There was a pause, as if he expected her to respond. She could only look back at him blankly.

Then Capability reached out and ran one of his fingertips briefly along Willow's arm. "Do you want to be very rich when you're twenty summers old? You could be, if you do what I tell you. And by then you'll be old enough to take on some extra duties. Not as a lover, but you'd be very well looked after. Red is cold towards me. Before many more seasons go by, I could use a worker when I don't have a lover. Eh? The difference between your age and mine won't bother anyone once you've passed twenty summers. So, do the right thing now, and by then, we'll both be a lot richer."

Willow knew there would be trouble if she said aloud the curses she was thinking. So she clenched her teeth together. She was very afraid that Rock's father was offering to be her lover, even if he was not going to call it that. And he seemed to think that paying her for it, and waiting until she was older, would make it more acceptable. He even seemed to think she might be grateful.

When Capability smiled at her, she wanted to spit in his face. But she remembered Juliette's words about the kitchen girl who never came back. It would, no doubt, be very dangerous to make Capability Reader angry. Unable to decide what to do, Willow stared at him without speaking.

"Come on then," he said abruptly, as if nothing unusual had just happened. "I'll show you what I want you to do today."

Still feeling very confused, Willow followed him to the far end of the building. There, beyond the sorting benches, near to the brick wall of the back of the warehouse, was a very large wooden crate. It looked a bit like a closed wagon without wheels. A fierce looking woman was standing right in front of it, obviously on guard. She held a fighting knife. Willow could see several more sheathed knives hanging from her belt.

The high walls of the crate had ventilation holes. Willow assumed there must be some very valuable plants drying inside. Perhaps even dusk. The overwhelming smell of plant dust everywhere in the warehouse prevented her from distinguishing anything different about what might be in there.

Capability spoke to the guard. On his instruction, the woman brought out a key from a pouch on her belt, then unlocked and opened a low door in the front of the crate.

"Go inside," Capability said to Willow. "We want you to talk to what's in there. Remember, if you can help us with this, it'll only be the start. Be a good worker to me and I'll make you rich, I can promise that."

Glancing at the fierce woman with the knives, Willow knew she had little choice. She stepped forward. As she walked into the crate, Capability followed. The door banged shut behind them, leaving them in darkness, except for small dots of light from the air holes.

"Don't move until I light the lantern," ordered Capability. Willow heard him striking a firestone.

The air inside the crate felt moist and cool, compared to the surrounding warehouse. Willow could now smell leaf mould and fungus, green leaves, and something like stagnant water. She could hear shuffling, rustling noises, making her think there was an animal of some kind in there, perhaps bedded down in straw.

As the light from the lantern flame brightened, Willow finally saw what was kept in the crate. Her eyes widened in astonishment.

Sitting in the straw that covered the floor, were naked people. Men, women and children blinked or covered their eyes from the light. Thin, well-muscled bodies were marked with scabs and bruises. Their skin was mottled in shades of brown. Their body hair and the hair on their heads was green. Willow understood immediately who they must be, and where they had come from. Greatly shocked, she continued to stare at them. Her horror at what the Harvesters had done increased as she took in what she saw.

"We've found out how to trap Green," announced Capability Reader, sounding very proud of himself. "But we can't communicate with them. The only ones who can are people with talents."

FOURTEEN

"You caught the Green? You've actually stolen them from the Forest?" Willow accused Capability Reader. The fact that he had just admitted believing in the talents hardly mattered, in comparison.

A Green woman was crouched a little closer to her than the others, although none of them had moved since the crate was opened. Now, the Green woman reached forward to pat Willow's boot with her hand, making a soothing noise that was almost like singing.

"Go on," said Capability eagerly. "Go closer. Touch them." He did not seem to notice Willow's distress. "The talents are stronger the closer you get. That's right, isn't it? You talk to 'em. Find out how to make 'em work."

Willow's hatred of the Harvesters increased more than ever, as Capability went on speaking.

"We knew we needed tame tree speakers to talk to 'em," he said. "That's what the stillroom was for, and it's why I paid Caul Driver so much coin to find my son again. The first Green we brought here all died at the end of winter. We had a terrible time getting the bodies away in secret. I told Stern we should have got you talking to 'em straight away, and got you training that other stillroom girl to do it, too. But Stern thought my son would be more useful, if we could find him. And Red thought you could bring him to us. Well, we don't have my son yet, and the other girl went back to Riverside. It doesn't matter. We've got you."

Willow stood in silence for a long time, looking at the Green. The woman who had touched her boot sat back.

At last, Willow turned to Capability Reader. "You don't understand at all, do you?" she said, so awed by the presence of the Green that she was no longer afraid to speak the truth. "You really don't. You really think of people as things for you to use. You'll use all of us. Plants and rocks, animals and people."

"You think I should have warned you, eh?" he said, misunderstanding her. "Too much of a shock. Some people aren't even certain if the Green are real or just a story. That's why we have to keep this secret. People would be upset if they thought there was a chance of Green getting loose in the city."

"The Green are people, too," Willow replied.

Capability seemed to ignore her. "Think of the news-sheets," he went on. "Some of 'em still print dangerous things, you know. If any of 'em find out there are Green in Stern Greylight's warehouse, they'll soon shout about it. We don't want anyone to know, yet. People worry. They might think we're going to bring a black beast to the city next."

"Well, are you?" asked Willow.

He did not answer.

It was clear that Capability and at least some of the other Harvesters had secretly believed in the talents all along. And yet they had put a lot of effort into trying to convince people the talents were imaginary. Pushing that thought aside for the moment, Willow returned her attention to the Green.

Taking a step forward and kneeling down in the straw, she reached out a hand towards the woman who had touched her boot. Even before their fingertips met, Willow could sense the woman's feelings of misery, fear, and desolation. As Capability had suggested, Willow said nothing aloud, but tried to tree speak. The woman seemed to understand, and responded without words, almost as a plant would have done.

If only the Green were not captive in the crate and so far from their home, Willow thought she would have enjoyed the experience as much as anything she had ever done. Instead, she _listened_ with increasing sorrow. All the Green in the crate had been stolen away from the Forest, yet they had lived in completely different areas, in different social groups. And now, everything they had ever known was changed, or gone completely.

Grasping Willow's hand tightly, the Green woman even seemed to try and offer comfort for Willow's own pain at what she was learning. The communication was not exactly the same as tree speaking, or animal talking.

Through the Green woman, Willow found out more. The Green seemed like people and animals and plants, all at once. Their green hair was really brown or fair, but with tiny green plants living in it. The Green shared the Forest with all other living things, and so they were a part of it. Willow began to understand that the plants in the warehouse, and the Green in the crate, were the Forest itself. A part of the Forest was dying right here in the city.

Suddenly, she was distracted by Capability, who grabbed her roughly by the arm to pull her to her feet.

"What did they say to you?" he demanded.

She shook him off. "Nothing," she lied.

"Never mind. It'll take time, I expect." He sounded unsurprised by her answer. Turning towards the door, he added, "Well, that's enough for now. If your kind spend too long with the Green, they go crazy."

"Why have you brought them here?" Willow asked him, still facing the Green, and refusing to follow Capability's lead. She noticed there was a rough pile of roots and leaves beside a jug of water on the floor. Although she could sense that the Green were hungry, the vegetables looked almost untouched. She wondered what they liked to eat.

"We'll put 'em to work in the warehouses until we've learned how to control 'em," Capability replied, "but their main use is that they can survive in the Forest. The work teams we take out there hardly last a moon before they sicken with fevers, and their skin festers from insect bites. Some of 'em just go mad and run off to rot into the soil up there. The wagon owners, like me and Stern, manage all right, because we live inside the wagons, running the harvest from there. But the workers must be in the Forest all the time, 'till it's all harvested. A lot of 'em just can't take it."

He touched Willow's arm again, trying to pull her towards the door. Once more, she shook him off, continuing to stare at the Green.

"We want to train these creatures to draw the forest animals into harvest nets," he told her. "Maybe to work the nets as well, and haul the plant dredgers. We could teach 'em to use axes and cut the tall trees, and to push the soil movers. We might even have 'em working with the miners underground. There could be teams of tame Green on every forest run. I'll have a share in the newest, biggest coin-earning business in the city. That's what I've been trying to tell you. You can share in it too, working for me and training 'em."

Finally tearing her gaze away from the Green, Willow looked round to find that Capability was grinning, no doubt imagining how rich he would be. "We'll sell trained teams of Green to the richest Harvesters in the city," he said. "Soon everyone will want 'em. They could cut the time it takes to clear a patch of Forest by more than half. And maybe we could get Green to control black beasts for us – I know they can do it, I've seen 'em – those monsters could tear up all the trees and plants in a patch in no time. They could even dig out the rocks."

With that, he opened the door of the crate and pushed Willow ahead of him, back into the stinking warehouse. The woman on guard leaned into the crate and put out the lamp, then closed and locked the door, leaving the Green in the dark.

Capability leaned close to Willow. "You could be the first person ever to do this," he said, not seeming to notice when she shuddered with revulsion. "We already tried taking tree speakers to the Forest, but they all got ill or went mad. The strain was too much for 'em. So we planned to trap some Green and bring 'em here to the city instead. When Caul Driver found out my son had been hiding in a hill village with an old tree speaker, I thought we might be able to use him. But we don't need him now. Or that other girl of Red's. I'll make you rich, Willow."

"No you will not!" Willow burst out, stepping away from him. "Those people in there are in despair. You must take them back to the Forest right now. Stop destroying their home and put them back in what's left of it."

She no longer cared whether she offended Capability Reader, or got herself into trouble with the Harvesters. It was insulting enough that Capability thought she might agree to be his lover. That he could think she would help him to control the Green, was unbelievable.

"The Green are not people. Be careful, girl," he said very quietly. "And I think maybe you did manage to talk to 'em, after all." Only the look in his eyes indicated to Willow that he was very, very angry. Clearly, he had not expected her to refuse him. "Remember not to tell anyone what you've seen here," he threatened. "If you do, I can make sure you never speak to anyone, or anything, ever again."

With that, he grabbed her by the wrist and began to stride through the warehouse, pulling her behind him. He took her straight out of a side door and round to the street at the front, where the carriage was still waiting. Willow quickly climbed in before he could try to lift her there, himself. Only then did he let go of her wrist. As soon as Capability had also climbed in, the carriage began to move, rumbling away down the street.

"I'll give you one day to think about it," he said, as they were both bounced and jolted around on the seat. "Work for me, and you can continue to live in my house. I'll pay you two silver discs every moon. More when you're older. Your duties'll increase then as well, of course. For now, I want those Green responding to commands. And you can find out what they eat. We've given them all kinds of harvest and they've hardly touched it. So, Willow. You can work for me, or not. But, if not, then I want you out of my house by tomorrow, sunset. Then you'll need to run, leave the city. The elders' people will be looking out for you. If they catch you, you'll be sent to a warehouse and treated worse than I would ever treat any of my workers."

Willow decided to pretend to think it over, hoping he might stick to his threat and let her go. Maybe he was bluffing about the elders' people. Or maybe she could somehow avoid them. His threats scared her, but she was angry, too. Most especially with Red, who had obviously known all along how Capability intended to make use of the stillroom workers. Rock's parents had turned out to be just as Rock had warned her they were.

Thinking of Rock, she remembered that he had told her his parents never knew he was an animal talker. If only she could warn him that they knew now. Somehow, they had found out. And, without Willow to carry out his plan, Capability's next idea might be to find his son, after all.

Once the carriage had delivered its two passengers back to Capability's house, Willow was sent straight to the stillroom. When Shim asked about where she had been, she dared not tell him. Shim had no trace of talent, as far as Willow knew. Yet, Capability obviously had some use for him, judging by the time Shim had spent away from the stillroom in the spring.

Willow set to work in silence, shaking her head miserably in response to his questions. Afraid that anything she told him might get back to Capability. However much she wanted to speak out about what the Harvesters had done, it would be very dangerous to say anything about the Green in Capability's household. He had made that quite clear.

Memories of the bruised, unhappy Green filled her thoughts all afternoon. She would have to leave the stillroom. Yet she did not know where to go next. Perhaps the time had come to return to Warner, after all. Except, she did not want to abandon the captured Green. They needed to be rescued, somehow.

"Are you all right?" Shim asked her, not for the first time, as they tidied the work table, at dusk.

"I'm fine," she lied, "but I need to go and see Rust about something."

"Go on then," he replied, easily enough. "I'll finish up here."

She went out in a hurry, bursting into Rust's room without knocking.

"What's wrong?" Rust asked immediately, looking up from the sheet of paper he was writing on.

"I will be leaving tomorrow."

He hardly looked surprised.

"Something to do with Capability?"

"Yes. He says I can't live in his house unless I do what he wants. And I won't."

Rust gave a long sigh.

"You know he'll send elders' people after you? Caul Driver or someone else. Couldn't you do what he wants until he forgets about you?"

"No. I have to go."

"I'll miss you. So will Red and Shim, and Juliette. If you insist, I'll give you your wages. It's not my place to stop you. Don't tell anyone where you're headed, though, will you?"

"No. Not even you," she said bitterly. "Was it you who told Red and Capability that Rock was an animal talker?"

He looked ashamed at this.

"Red and I are very close," he admitted after a pause. "I think once I did say something by accident. I didn't mean to."

Willow took this answer to mean that Rust and Red were lovers.

Rust opened a drawer and pulled out a coin box, unlocking it with a key he carried attached to his belt. He counted out Willow's coins and gave them to her. Then, after a quick glance towards the closed door, he took a scrap of paper from inside the box, under the coins.

He held out the paper to Willow. She read: _Sparkle rope bridge bees nest._

"That's where you'll find your Rock," Rust said, in a low voice. "In Riverside."

Then, snatching the paper back, he quickly replaced it beneath the coins and locked the box again.

He continued talking very quietly. "Someone wrote that down and sent it to Caul Driver. I expect he paid them for it. We think that Sparkle is a person. Rope bridge, Bees' Nest, is a place. Red's planning to go there looking for Jen, but she might not find him if he doesn't want to be found. Caul thinks Jen's been moving around all over Riverside. Now he seems to have settled in this place. It's known to the elders as somewhere pretty dangerous, so be careful. If you manage to reach him, tell him I wish him well."

Willow thanked him, hardly daring to hope that Rust might be truly on her side.

"There's one thing you could do for me," she said. Then she explained about the honeywood nut and the seedling growing behind the privy.

"Could you check on it sometimes, in secret?" she asked. "Don't let the other plants choke it. Give it water in hot weather. One day, when it's a fully grown tree, someone will have to work out how to fertilise the flowers like the moths that usually feed on them."

Rust smiled at her. "I'll take care of the tree," he promised.

Willow really wanted to believe him, although she was afraid he might simply tell Red, who would probably have the nut dug up and used in the kitchen.

Willow returned to the stillroom. Just as she arrived at the door, it was opened from the other side and Caul Driver stepped out. As she waited for him to go past, he seemed to avoid meeting her gaze.

"What did he want?" she demanded of Shim, as soon as Caul had gone.

"Skin salve," he whispered, grinning. "Those leather clothes the elders' people have to wear don't always fit properly. Sometimes in hot weather they cause sores in embarrassing places."

Shim had finished clearing the table.

"Today is my last day as a stillroom worker," said Willow.

"Caul told me you might be working for Capability Reader."

"No. I'm leaving this house tomorrow."

"Really?" She thought he looked worried on hearing this news. He came to stand beside her. "Are you sure? Where are you going?"

When Willow refused to answer, Shim wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her gently. She did not try to push him away.

"Well, I'll miss you," he said, and sighed. Then he continued in a more cheerful tone of voice, "I know. Why don't you come to the Rising Eel with me this evening and we'll share a jug of ale. I'll buy us some candied marsh fruits. Please? I'll be all alone tomorrow."

Willow decided it would not hurt to spend her last evening as a stillroom worker with Shim, as long as they were in a public place. He was very loyal to his Harvester employers, but he had always been friendly, except for that one time he had kissed her without asking.

"All right," she agreed.

He smiled at her in reply, although she thought he looked sad as they left the stillroom together.

FIFTEEN

Willow climbed the stairs to the attic, where she packed all of her possessions into her travelling pack once more. Keeping a few small coins for her belt purse, she hid the rest inside a pouch, tucking that carefully in her drum, behind the skin. Then she pushed the drum deep inside the pack. Using all her spare clothing, tightly folded and rolled together, she covered the drum and its contents thoroughly.

She did not plan to wait until the next morning to leave Capability Reader's house. He might have been lying about letting her go. Once she had returned from visiting the tavern with Shim, the rest of the household would soon all be asleep. That would be the best time to take her pack and leave secretly by the kitchen door, which was only ever bolted from inside.

When her packing was done, she met Shim downstairs, telling him nothing of her plans. The two of them went out straight away, heading for the Rising Eel Tavern. It was such a warm evening that many people were relaxing outdoors. Sounds of laughter and loud voices came from some of the big gardens of the rich houses. Elsewhere, workers rested in the open air, having carried chairs, tables and lanterns out to street corners, into doorways, and even onto flat roofs.

The Rising Eel had a patch of grass and trees beside its stable. Benches and lantern-lit tables had been set up there, so that customers could eat and drink outside. It looked as though every bench was already occupied. Willow searched for a comfortable spot on the grass, but Shim kept on scanning the benches.

"There!" he said, finally. "We can sit on the end of that one. That couple have nearly finished their meal."

Pointing to a bench that was occupied by a broad-shouldered man and a tall woman, Shim led the way. Feeling too tired and hot to argue, Willow sat down, although she would have preferred a more private space on the grass. The couple already there made no comment. They did not seem to mind sharing. As Shim hurried off to fetch ale and marsh fruits, the man and woman continued with their conversation as if they were still alone.

"...I prefer baked fish," said the woman, "but it's just not safe in this weather. You can't be sure it's fresh."

"Smoked," the man replied. "Smoked is best, anyway. Or pickled in winterdawn berry vinegar. That's how we carry it on harvest runs."

Shim returned with a jug of ale and two mugs. Sitting beside Willow, he stood the jug between them on the bench.

"I'll go back for the marsh fruits later," he promised. "The queue at the food counter's too long now. Let's drink to your new life."

Willow took small sips of the warm, bitter ale. As Shim had predicted, the couple at the other end of the bench soon finished their meal and moved away.

After a slightly larger mouthful of ale, Willow twisted her lips at the taste of it.

Shim laughed at her expression. "This ale's not the cheap stuff, you know," he commented. "Or is that face because you're thinking about how much you're going to miss me? Why won't you tell me where you're going tomorrow? It's all very sudden, you deciding to leave like this."

She shook her head, refusing to answer.

He refilled his ale mug from the jug. "Here," he said, handing her a coin. "Why don't you go and get the candied marsh fruits? I'm going to have to do all the stillroom work on my own tomorrow."

She did not feel like moving at all. The heat and the ale were making her feel sleepy. But it was true that there would be an awful lot of work for Shim to do in the stillroom, unless Red employed someone else in an attempt to trap more tree speakers. Reluctantly, Willow stood up and went into the tavern.

The brightly lit entrance of the Rising Eel led to a darker hallway. From there, a narrow passage led to the sitting rooms, where there were counters for buying food and drink. After standing aside to allow two other young girls to go past carrying plates of sliced fruits, Willow stepped into the passage.

Suddenly, she felt rough hands on her waist. Someone had grabbed her, holding her arms against her sides. As she twisted round, trying to see who it was, another hand was pressed over her mouth. Something cut sharply into her cheek. She realised it was someone's long fingernails. Her own hands opened in an attempt at resistance and she dropped Shim's coin.

Unable to cry out, she tried to kick at the legs of her two attackers with her heavy boots. This only caused the owner of the long nails to grip harder. Then Willow found herself lifted off her feet and carried backwards through a short passage leading off the main one. The smell of horses suggested that it led directly into the stable.

As she was pulled into a larger space, still kicking, Willow's boots knocked against the side of a carriage. She had been right, they had brought her through the stable to the yard. The tables full of customers were just a few strides away, yet several carriages hid her from their view. Shim was within hearing distance, and yet Willow could not call for help.

Eventually, she managed to bite the hand with the long fingernails. Although its owner swore aloud, they did not let go. Willow recognised the voice of the woman she had just shared a bench with. Presumably, that meant the arms around her waist belonged to the man who liked smoked fish.

As she continued to struggle, the pair of them dragged her towards a carriage with its door standing open and its horses harnessed ready to go. Willow was quickly pulled inside by the man. The woman followed, still holding a hand over Willow's mouth. The man called an instruction to an unseen driver. Almost immediately the carriage lurched and began moving. Then Willow's captors let go of her, so fast that she fell onto the floor at their feet.

"Filthy, dung-chewing Harvesters!" she yelled at them.

"Don't try and open the door. It's bolted from outside," the woman said, just as Willow was planning to do exactly that. "Don't waste your voice shouting for help. No one will hear you. Shut up and behave."

Willow glared up at the two strangers. "People will come looking for me."

The man laughed. "Capability Reader said to tell you this," he replied. "Shim Dealer will finish his ale and go home to bed. Tomorrow, he will tell Rust Dewsinger that you left the house this evening. Your room will be searched and found empty of all your things. Capability also says that if you do as he wants, the stillroom will be closed. It won't be needed anymore."

For a moment, the hurt of realising that Shim had betrayed her was even worse than Willow's fear of what might happen next. The whole visit to the tavern must surely have been planned in advance, and Shim must have been involved. He had brought her here knowing these Harvesters were going to attack her.

She turned away from them, pulling her knees up to her chest. Wedging one shoulder under the carriage bench to stop herself sliding about, she remained on the floor. If she climbed up onto the seat it would put her face to face with the slime-pissers, and she could not bear to even look at them.

Instead, she cursed Shim Dealer with every insult she could think of, wondering how much coin he had earned that evening. When the carriage stopped at last, the driver unbolted the door from outside. Willow was not surprised to find herself looking out at the warehouse where the Green were kept.

There was no chance to make a run for it, because the Harvester man had grabbed hold of Willow's arms an instant before the doors opened. The woman with the sharp fingernails climbed out first and hurried away. Then the man hauled Willow roughly out of the carriage to the ground. Pushing her ahead of him, he then dragged her straight into the warehouse. She screamed and shouted for help. But if the carriage driver or anyone else heard, they took no notice.

Inside the warehouse, work was still going on, even though it was dark outside. Willow was carried past the workbenches. Although she was captured and struggling, none of the workers even looked up. She wondered if such cruelty seemed normal to them.

The same female guard as before waited outside the crate housing the captured Green. Another, smaller crate now stood beside the large one. The guard opened a door in the small crate as Willow was shoved towards it. In one last attempt to break free, Willow twisted her head around. She tried to bite the face of the man who carried her, kicking her heels against his legs at the same time. It was no use. Ignoring her efforts, he flung her away from him and into the crate. She landed hard on a pile of straw.

The Harvester man was gone in moments, but then the guard came forward. Before Willow had taken three breaths, the woman reached towards her belt, undid it and took it away, coin purse and all. After that, the guard left her alone, shutting the door and bolting it.

Willow lay where she was, dazed and bewildered. Slowly, she began to take in her surroundings. There was no source of light within the crate, but lamplight from outside shone faintly around the edges of the door, and through small gaps in the planks that formed the walls. Not even a wharf mouse moved in the straw.

This crate seemed to have been constructed in its present position, unlike the large one in which the Green had been transported. In fact, Willow saw that her crate only had three sides and a roof, fixed against the brick wall of the warehouse. Under the straw, the floor was hard packed earth, the same as the rest of the warehouse. Halfway up the brick wall, the wooden planks had been cut to fit around something. After staring at it for some time, she realised it was a water pipe.

Closing her eyes and letting the cool of the floor ease the growing heat of her bruises, she began to notice smells and noises coming from the warehouse outside. Although no sounds reached her from the neighbouring crate containing the Green, she could sense they were there, even without trying to use her talent. It was impossible not to notice the sadness coming from all around, from the Green and the harvested plants and the miserable warehouse workers. Trying not to despair, Willow cursed out loud, over and over again. She cursed Capability Reader, Red Dawnweaver, Caul Driver, Shim Dealer, the guard and the two despicable Harvesters who had captured her.

After what seemed a very long time, she heard someone unbolting the crate door. Getting quickly to her feet, she stood with her back to the brick wall. Bright light spilled in as the door opened. The guard placed one metal bucket and one wooden one just inside.

"Piss bucket. Dung bucket," the woman said, then left.

Snarling with anger, Willow kicked both buckets against the wall. Her outburst could not hide the grating rattle of the bolt, as the guard locked her in.

"Let me out, you slime-pissers! You scabby-buttocked dung-chewers!" she shouted, although her throat hurt from breathing straw and spice dust.

Then one of the spice-grinders started up, drowning out all other sounds.

The next time the door of the crate was opened, Willow remained sitting with her back against the brick wall. The guard left a jug of water and some bread on the floor.

"Harvester bitch!" Willow called out, but the guard ignored her.

At first Willow tried not to look at the bread and water, not wanting to cooperate with the Harvesters by taking any. However, it became very hot as the day went on. There was spice dust in the air, even though the walls and ceiling of the crate kept out the worst of it. Eventually, she had to drink. Then she ate the bread as well. Later, she used the piss bucket, loudly cursing Capability Reader as she did so.

SIXTEEN

Changes in the noises within the warehouse helped Willow to judge the passing time. She also noticed small alterations in the level of oppressive heat inside her crate. Another day and night went by before the guard unlocked the door again, to leave more bread and water, and swap the stinking buckets for fresh ones.

On the third evening of Willow's captivity, she heard loud noises, as if something heavy was being dragged along just outside the crate. A short time later, she noticed a new smell, like a brazier burning. Not long after that, the door of the crate was opened. In the sudden glare of lamplight flooding in, Willow saw Caul Driver.

She looked beyond him, checking to see if there was any way to escape. The guard stood behind Caul, a large knife unsheathed in her hand. A second armed and leather-clad woman stood right beside her.

Caul Driver came towards Willow, who still sat with her back to the wall. As he moved closer, she began to see his face more clearly. He looked tense, almost worried.

"I'm really sorry, Willow. I don't like having to do this."

"But you'll work for anyone who'll pay enough," she managed to croak. Her throat felt raw from the dust, and all her cursing.

"Capability Reader is going to be powerful," said Caul, visibly straightening his shoulders. "The best thing is to go with him, not against him. This will be painful for both of us, but you'll thank me in the end."

Before Willow could react, Caul moved aside to allow both guards to come forward at once. One of the women grabbed her ankles while the other pinned her arms against her sides. Then they lifted her out of the crate into the lighted warehouse. There, a small brazier had been set up, just as Willow had guessed. She saw Caul go over to it and pick up a thing like a very small poker. Its tip glowed red hot.

Too surprised even to struggle at first, Willow could not understand what she was seeing. Then, just as she did finally realise what he intended to do, Caul Driver branded her. Reaching for one of her wrists, he quickly pushed the heated metal against the outside of her forearm. Then Willow fought to get free of the two guards with every muscle in her body, but it was already too late. She began screaming.

The guards carried her back to her bed of straw inside the crate. Caul stood over her until she had shut her mouth and become quiet.

"You should be proud," he told her. "You're the first of Capability Reader's workers to wear his mark."

She heard bitterness and regret in his voice, even so.

"I didn't do anything wrong," she said. The pain and frustration were so great that she had started to cry, unable to stop herself.

"It's not a punishment," Caul insisted. "It's a privilege – a new kind of brand. Capability's decided to start a new fashion. Soon everyone will be getting them. It shows you're under a Harvester's protection."

"Why haven't you got one, then?" she asked. "And I'm not one of Capability's workers. I said no."

Whatever Caul or Capability might say, Willow knew perfectly well that she was being punished for not doing as she was told. Capability Reader truly believed he could have what he wanted, whatever the cost.

For a long time after Caul had left her alone, Willow simply lay in the straw, cradling her wounded arm with her other hand and crying.

She called Rinnet and Yenna's names out loud, because the sounds were comforting. She found herself wishing she had never left Warner, after all. Then she called out Rock's name, and also cursed him. After that, she cursed everyone else she might blame for what had happened to her, including the plants who had first told her of the harvest of the Forest and given her a reason to travel to the Spice City. Just once, she even wished the Forest had just died without a fight, letting the Harvesters have what they wanted.

The branding made Willow weak and feverish. In time, the fever grew worse. Sometimes the pain was so strong she almost hoped for the fever to kill her. She imagined how her body would then rot into the earth, and, at last, there would be no trace left of the burn on her skin that marked her as Capability Reader's property.

Sometimes, one of the guards brought in drinking water. Or they took hold of her arm and covered the branding wound with something that felt cool. Whatever it was, it did not work nearly as well as greenroot jelly. The villagers of Warner rarely needed to use anything else on a burn. Greenroot was the best any tree speaker had ever discovered. Whenever the guards came, Willow shut her eyes, trying to ignore them.

She soon began to recover from the fever, not dying after all. But the pain of the burn remained. Then Capability Reader came to visit her. If she could have reached him, Willow thought she would have grabbed him around the throat. But he kept his distance, standing in the doorway of her crate. One of the guards stayed close by. In spite of having wanted to die when the fever was at its worst, Willow found that she did not have enough courage to attack someone whose guard carried such a large fighting knife.

"It's not a punishment," insisted Capability, pointing at the wound above Willow's wrist. "It's just a mark to show you're under my protection. You'll be treated well."

Without answering him, she let her eyes move around the walls of the crate, showing what she thought of this lie.

"You work for me," Capability continued, showing no sign that he understood. "Not everyone will recognise this new kind of mark straight away, but Harvesters will know what it means. It shows you're mine, you work for me."

Willow closed her eyes, understanding, too late, how useless it was to try and stand up to powerful people who were convinced of their own importance.

"The Green are hardly eating anything," Capability went on, as if he could not imagine why that would be. "I want you to go in there and talk to 'em. Find out what they eat. Whatever it is, we'll get it. Just find out for us, before they starve."

Opening her eyes again, Willow stared at him.

"No." she answered. "I won't help you keep them locked up. The Green shouldn't be here. Take them back to the Forest."

"Well, if you won't do as you're told, then you'll have to stay locked up as well," he threatened. "As soon as you do as I ask, you'll have a comfortable room, good food and clean clothes. You'll earn coin, lots of it. My brand marks you as special. You should be proud."

With that, he threw a small paper packet across the floor so that it landed under a clump of straw. "That's dusk," he said. "It'll take the pain away. I'll come back when you're feeling better."

After Capability had gone, the guard came and retrieved the dusk from the straw, dropping it into Willow's lap. Then Willow was left alone, once more.

She spent some time trying to decide what to do. Eventually, she opened the little packet. She had to do it one-handed, biting her lip as even greater pain flared up her branded arm when she moved. Greeting the dusk as a tree speaker, she asked it to help her. There was not enough to consider using it to stop her own heart. It was barely enough to have covered a fingertip. But much more than she had seen Emmie take at the skin dance in Warner, the previous summer. Willow tipped the whole packetful out onto her tongue.

The dusk began working almost straight away, quickly dulling the burning pain of her arm, the soreness of her bruises, and the headache and cramps that came from fever and lack of food. Then it helped her to fall asleep.

Later, she woke feeling extremely thirsty. Searching the floor for the water jug, she found that it had gone. The guard must have taken it away, presumably under Capability's orders and in full knowledge of how much the dusk would cause Willow to need it.

"Bum!" Willow said aloud. She began kicking at the door and walls and shouting. No one came to unbolt the crate and find out what was wrong.

Then she remembered the water pipe. Capability might not even have realised it was there. Perhaps she could make a hole in it somehow. Going up to the far wall, she reached up with her good arm to feel along it with her fingertips. It felt cold from the water inside, but there were no drips and she had no way of puncturing it.

Resting her fingertips against the pipe, she tried to _listen_ to it, hoping to ask how to reach the water inside. But, the effects of the dusk kept on pulling her thoughts back towards dreaming, making it very hard to concentrate. She thought the pipe was saying it had a message for her, although she could hardly believe it.

Trying to untangle her own thoughts from the dusk dreaming, Willow struggled to focus her attention. Then she gasped out loud. The pipe definitely seemed to be saying it had a message for her, from Rock.

Making every effort to push away the confusing effects of dusk, Willow was certain that she had not misunderstood. Rock had talked to the water pipe in order to send a message. She tried even harder to _listen_ , hardly daring to hope that Rock knew where she was. Eventually, she worked out that he had tried to contact her through some wharf mice, but they had not been able to find their way into the crate in time. So then, he had somehow managed to talk to the other end of the water pipe.

The most important part of Rock's message seemed to be that she must keep away from the brick wall in the middle of the night. This was worrying, since she had stopped paying attention to whether it was night or day. Then Willow realised that when Rock found out what had happened to her, he surely would not want to help her at all. She had been branded as property by his hated father.

The water pipe pulled at her attention, distracting her from her self-pity. It told her that it ran all the way round the warehouse from a tank on the roof, where it could sense daylight. Although it had been ripped from the earth of the Forest and carried far away, it had grown roots into the air, against the wall where no one could see. Apparently, Rock and some other people were waiting for a signal, which the pipe would now give them. Although Willow did not understand why this was important.

By the end of her conversation with the pipe, she was feeling dizzy from stretching up to reach it. She went and lay down on the straw at the front of the crate, well away from the brick wall. Now that there was a reason to stay awake, she regretted swallowing the dusk. However much it lessened pain, it was clearly not a good remedy for someone who was hungry, exhausted and ill. But there was nothing she could do to stop its effects, now that she had swallowed it.

After sleeping again, she was woken by loud noises coming from behind the wall. The ground shook, making the straw shiver around her. Willow felt almost too ill to care, so did not get up. Then she heard warehouse workers shouting, sounding afraid. No one came to open the door of her crate.

At last, Willow managed to get dizzily to her feet, intending to reach up to the water pipe and find out if it was day or night. Before she could step forwards, there was a thunderous noise and the brick wall exploded towards her. Covering her head with her hands, she cowered back into the wooden corner of the crate. Something hard grazed her hip and something else cracked against her boot.

Terrified, she was afraid even to lift her head and look. But then she felt someone touch her shoulder.

"Willow! Are you all right?" It was a girl's voice, sounding somehow familiar.

Looking up at last, Willow could not see the girl's face clearly.

"Where's Rock?" she asked. "Is that you, Naesy?"

"Don't you remember me? Oh, I'm sorry Willow, I forgot it's dark. It's me, Wildcat," the girl replied. "Now, quick, let's get you away!"

Thinking she must be having a dusk dream, Willow allowed Wildcat to pull her to her feet and help her to clamber through a hole that had been punched in the warehouse wall. Thankfully, it was low enough not to have damaged the helpful water pipe.

"The Green..." Willow started to say. If there was the slightest chance that this rescue was real, then the Green deserved to get away as well.

"Not yet. Too difficult," answered Wildcat. She pulled on Willow's good arm, hurrying her out into the night.

Willow's branded arm was now hurting badly again. But she thought the impossible presence of Wildcat must surely mean that she was still dreaming. Her friend helped her to walk along several dark alleys and across a patch of rough grassland. It was raining. Willow could feel straw and spice dust gently washing from her face and hands as they went.

They stopped in the shelter of a derelict stone hut, with the smell of the river close by. Wildcat rested with her back to the crumbling wall. It was too dark to see the colours of her clothing or her red hair. Nevertheless, she was definitely wearing trousers, and her hair was decorated with leaves and feathers, just as it had been in the marshes.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't get you out sooner," Wildcat said quietly. "We wanted to, but we had to be careful to get it right."

Willow was in too much pain and still too confused by dusk to reply. Soon, Wildcat led her further along the riverbank.

After that, Willow was hardly aware of anything for a while. At one point she came awake to find that someone's arm was holding her up around the waist. Someone else dribbled water into her mouth from a flask. There were lights, and there was the smell of a smoky fire made from damp wood.

"The others shouldn't be long," said a woman's voice. "Let's hope they weren't followed."

"Rock?" Willow began to ask.

But, if anyone answered, she did not hear them. She felt herself begin to lose consciousness again.

SEVENTEEN

Willow opened her eyes to find herself in a little room with walls of smooth timber. She was lying on a soft bed under a woven blanket.

The window shutters were open, allowing sunlight and birdsong to spill into the room. Two people were seated on chairs by the window. Both were sewing, making use of the light. One of them was Wildcat, much to Willow's astonishment. The other was a very colourfully dressed woman she did not know. As Willow stared, Wildcat looked up from her sewing. She was very much real, not a part of a dusk dream after all.

"She's awake," said Willow's friend from the marshes.

The woman beside Wildcat was dressed in layered skirts of different colours and lengths. Her greying hair had dyed streaks of black, orange and red, and was tied up with green and yellow ribbons. Both she and Wildcat got to their feet, laying aside their sewing.

Willow attempted to sit up, but a sudden pain in her head made her lie straight back down again.

"Wildcat, what are you doing here? Where are we?" she managed to ask. Her throat hurt and her voice came out cracked and croaky.

"Listen, Wildcat, you need to get out of the city. The Harvesters want young people with talents," Willow remembered to add urgently, not even caring that the strange woman would overhear. Wildcat was an animal talker. "They'll try and get me back and they'll be looking for others. Where's Rock? They'll be coming after him."

"Syme's been out leaving false clues to make the Harvesters think we've sent you home to the hills. You and Wildcat are both safe here for now," said the woman at Wildcat's side. She picked up a cup from a small table near the bed, offering it to Willow.

After sitting up far more carefully the second time, Willow took the cup and gratefully swallowed the water it contained.

"Syme? Syme Deadlander? Does he live here? Where is this?" she asked.

"This is the Bees' Nest," the woman replied. "We're on an island in the river, in a little channel that's too shallow for the spice ships. The only way to reach us is in a small boat or over the rope bridge."

"Did I come over a rope bridge?"

"We had to carry you over," said Wildcat. "I thought those Harvesters had nearly killed you, but Sparkle could tell they'd only given you dusk."

Willow looked down at her branded arm. They had also done something far worse.

"Rust showed me a note," she remembered. "It said Sparkle, rope bridge, Bees' Nest. He told me it was a dangerous place."

Hearing this, the woman smiled. "My name is Sparkle," she said. "I'm a tree speaker, like you. The Bees' Nest is right next to Riverside, at the centre of the Spice City. Yet here we manage without coin. Yes, it's probably quite a dangerous place. It gives people ideas."

"Without coin?" Willow repeated, understanding that at last she was with the Rats. And Wildcat had got here before her.

"Wildcat, it's so good to see you again," she said, looking once more at her friend. "Can you tree speak yet?"

"Yes I can. I can tree speak as well as animal talk now," Wildcat answered. "I remembered what you and Rinnet taught me and I worked hard at it. But you need to rest, Willow. I'll tell you everything later."

Willow closed her eyes, only intending to rest them for a moment. Before she could continue the conversation, she had fallen asleep again.

The next time she woke, her headache was gone, although the pain of her arm was worse. Wildcat was no longer in the room, but Sparkle was still there, seated in front of the window. Once she saw Willow was awake, she came to help her get out of bed and walk to a privy not far from the cottage.

When they returned to the sunny room, Sparkle made Willow sit in one of the chairs. After leaving the room briefly, Sparkle returned carrying a small bowl. Willow immediately recognised the smell of greenroot jelly.

As Sparkle began smoothing handfuls of cooling greenroot onto Willow's burned arm, Willow forced herself to look thoroughly at the wound. It was covered in a yellowish scab that wept and bled wherever it had cracked. All of the surrounding skin was red and swollen and angry. Even so, it looked to be healing well. Above the elbow, her arm looked fine. Testing it, she found she could move it easily, as long as she ignored the pain.

"It's going to heal clean," Sparkle confirmed, wiping her hands on a cloth.

"The mark won't go away. Not ever. I belong to Capability Reader." Willow hardly cared how well it healed. When the pain was completely gone, the brand in the shape of an upside-down tree would fully have become part of her skin.

"You can stop thinking like that, right now," Sparkle told her, sharply. "You don't have to accept the meaning he's given it. The mark is in _your_ skin, not his, see?"

"But I don't want it."

"You have it. Get used to it." Sparkle got to her feet. "Now," she said, picking up the bowl, "we don't use coin here, so everyone helps with the work. You can't let dirt get into that wound and you still need rest. So, today you can teach Wildcat everything you can remember about the plants in Red Dawnweaver's stillroom. That's important knowledge, even if it does come from Harvesters. Wildcat knows my garden and my herb cupboard. She'll pass on any new ideas she thinks I might be able to use. I never get tired of trying new recipes."

Sparkle left the room. A short time later, Wildcat entered, carrying a basket of peas still in their pods. She settled herself in the chair beside Willow, ready to talk and shell peas at the same time. Through the window, the two girls looked out on a garden full of healing plants.

"We call that Sparkle's garden, though anyone can use it," Wildcat explained. "It's mainly Sparkle that cares for those plants. In the other gardens there are vegetables and more herbs. Some of the soil's very rich. There are places where the river rises over the edges of the island and floods the soil in winter. And we've got bees, and pigs, goats and chickens. There's a coppice and a pond and we have rain tanks. There isn't room for fields so there's no flax or grain, or sheep for wool. We often have extra honey and beeswax and other things we can trade, though. Sometimes we do earn coin. We use some of it to pay elders' people to leave us alone."

"You said 'we'. Are you part of the Bees' Nest now?" Willow asked her friend.

"Oh, yes." Then Wildcat suddenly looked upset. "Willow, I tried to find you, but..."

"Start at the beginning," Willow interrupted, remembering how Wildcat loved to talk at length. "Tell me what's been happening to you since you left the marshes. I thought you'd stay there a few more seasons before you came to the city."

"I left the marshes just before Winter's Heart," Wildcat replied. "They don't need me anymore. Kezzy and Blueripple have moved in together in a cottage in Upmarsh, so now they're both Upmarsh tree speakers. The Downmarsh tree speakers are June and Whisper and they've got a whole cottage each."

Willow sighed. She had obviously been completely wrong about Rock and Kezzy. "And how did you find Sparkle and the Bees' Nest straight away?" she asked, returning her attention to Wildcat's tale. "It took me and Rock nearly a whole moon just to meet Syme, and even then it was him who found us, because Goshi told him to."

Wildcat was silent for several heartbeats. "Sparkle found me when I was desperate." she answered, eventually. "The thing is, after I'd only been in the city two days, I picked an argument with a Harvester in public. And one of the elders' people caught me and searched me for coin, and I didn't have any by then. I'd already spent all the coins I brought with me. I didn't realise how fast they'd get used up. So that elders' woman took me straight to a warehouse. It was one for sorting and storing dead animals."

There was much longer silence, during which Willow imagined, with growing horror, how Wildcat must have felt in such a dreadful place.

"They made me go in there," Wildcat finally went on. "Those tough old elders' people with their silly leather clothes and their big knives. But after half a day, I hid under a harvest wagon. Then I ran out of the main doors while everyone else was unloading the wagon."

It was a relief to hear that Wildcat had escaped so quickly, but Willow remained dismayed at the thought of what had happened to her.

"I wandered around Riverside for a few days," Wildcat continued. "I... well, at first I never, ever wanted to animal talk again. There were whole wagons piled high with dead animals in that warehouse. From the last harvest run before the snow. It was very cold in there, but not enough to freeze the meat. The smell was just... I can't even describe it. The animals had been caught and killed and skinned in the Forest, but the wagons bring back everything that can be used. All the meat and hides and guts. The way it's done is terrible, nothing like when villagers hunt animals. Nothing like the way animals kill each other, either. The Harvesters killed every single animal they found. Young and old, healthy and sick. They didn't leave a living thing behind to carry on breeding. Well, not except the insects and moulds and all those tiny things, but they'll die, too, with nothing left to feed on."

She and Willow exchanged sober looks.

"So after that, I was too upset to think where I was going. I just happened to end up on the river bank near the rope bridge," Wildcat said. "And Sparkle found me. I hadn't eaten for days, except for a few roots and leaves. Once, I was so hungry I trapped a rat, but after the warehouse I couldn't face eating it. Anyway, I couldn't have cooked it. Riversiders soon grab anything that'll burn on a fire, there's no dry wood lying around anywhere there."

Willow knew that Wildcat could easily survive alone for many days in the most dangerous parts of the marshes. Yet here in the city, her friend had nearly starved.

EIGHTEEN

"I'm glad you found the Bees' Nest, Wildcat," said Willow, "but how safe is it here, really? The Harvesters and the elders will try and get rid of it."

"Of course," Wildcat replied, although she did not sound at all worried. "Elders' people come here, but we know how to make them to go away. We're not actually doing anything wrong. Sometimes they say the Bees' Nest had something to do with a fire at a warehouse, the spring before last. But we would never do anything like that. It was other Rats, like the people of the Dawn Trail.

"Anyway, every time the Harvesters accuse us of doing something wrong, we make a big fuss arguing with them, and we always tell the news-sheet writers. There are a few news-sheet owners, now, that are as good as Rats, themselves. Did you know that? Syme's told me all about them. All the city elders are Harvesters, but not all the rich people are. There are people who are rich, but not greedy like the Harvesters. Some of them own these news-sheets. So if the Harvesters and elders try and stop what we do here, news-sheets would tell everyone, and even more people would hear about us. And that's just what the Harvesters don't want. I wouldn't call it totally safe here, but it's better than other parts of Riverside."

Wildcat paused to take a breath, then added, "Oh, talking of Riverside, guess what? There's someone else you know staying here. She's a Riversider, but she used to work in Red Dawnweaver's stillroom, too."

"Naesy? She's here? What about her brothers and Iris?"

"Yes, they're all here. I've met Naesy. She's not too well, but Sparkle says she only needs rest. Little Iris has been put in charge of searching for eggs. We've got hens nesting all over the place and she's better at finding the nests than anyone. She talks to the hens all the time, thanking them for feeding her. She hides a few eggs, and other food. So do the boys. Everyone pretends not to notice. Sparkle says it's just something children do after they've gone a long time without getting enough to eat."

Willow hoped that Naesy was loving it at the Bees' Nest, as well. She did not like to think that it might fit in well with Red's plans for Naesy if her brothers and sister were able to stay fed without her.

Finally, Willow asked the question she had been holding back, afraid of what the answer might be. "So, how did you know I needed rescuing? Was it Rock? Where is he?"

"He did help to rescue you, but he's not here right now," Wildcat replied. "By the way, I sent him a message for you as soon as I got to the city, by asking the wharf mice to pass it on from nest to nest. I thought Rock was bound to talk to some, somewhere. And I was right. I wasn't good enough at tree speaking to try reaching you through plants."

"He didn't tell me," Willow said angrily, beginning to understand part of what must have happened.

"I know. We talked about it when he turned up here. The thing is, by the time Rock did get my message, Syme had already found you both, and Rock had just met the elders' man that works for his parents."

"Caul Driver," Willow confirmed. "But Syme didn't tell us you were in the city."

"He didn't know. I arrived while the drummers were away from the Bees' Nest. And then Rock acted as stupid as a shimmerfly trapped indoors. After meeting that elders' man, he panicked. Rock told me he thought if he disappeared and hid in Riverside, the elders' man would follow him. Then you would be left alone to find the Rats, like you wanted. And he got himself so worked up, he forgot to tell you about the wharf mice and my message. I thumped him for that, by the way."

Willow felt like screaming. But it was too late to wish things had turned out differently.

"Most of my coin was stolen and I think Caul Driver might have arranged that," she explained to Wildcat. "And what the Harvesters really wanted was someone with a talent they could control."

"And when Rock hid in Riverside, he disappeared too well, so the elders' man went straight after you instead," Wildcat added. "Rock can live alone in Riverside like I can live alone in the marshes. He talked rats and mice away from people's food. Then he was allowed to eat some of what was saved. If only I'd thought of doing that."

Willow was silent, still angry at Rock for leaving her alone. Yet she also felt secretly pleased he had been trying to look after her.

"Eventually, Rock found out this is where Syme Deadlander lives," Wildcat continued. "He came here expecting to meet you, thinking Syme would have contacted you again soon after Winter's Heart. But Syme told Rock you were working in Red's stillroom. Then Rock guessed his parents would try to find him through you, so he went to the Travellers' Exchange and he got your letter. I've never heard half of the swear words he said when he got back here. I thought he should go straight to the stillroom after you, but he said his parents might hurt you if he did, just to punish him. And then Naesy turned up."

Willow had been listening to the last part of Wildcat's explanation with her eyes closed, resting her head in her hands. Would Rock ever forgive her for what she had done, living in his parents' house and working for them?

"Where's Naesy now?" she asked, wanting to think about something else.

"In another cottage, where it's quiet. Naesy was in an awful state when she got here. Sparkle says she'll be fine after a long rest, though. Sparkle's a mind-healer. The person who brought Naesy here for help must have known that."

"Who brought her?"

"I don't know. Anyway, from what Naesy told Sparkle, we all thought you were safe where you were and we were going to find a way to contact you in secret, later on. Sparkle thought the Harvesters might come looking for Naesy. So, when Red Dawnweaver sent a message that she knew her son was here and asked to meet him, Sparkle made him do it. She wanted Rock to explain to Red that Naesy needs time to get better, so Red wouldn't try and get her back before she's ready to decide if she wants to go."

Willow thought it might have been Caul Driver or Rust Dewsinger who gave Naesy into Sparkle's care in the first place. Perhaps Red did not really want Naesy back until she had been healed of her mind-sickness.

"So Rock's mother came to the rope bridge," Wildcat continued. "I didn't see her, but he told me about it later. He asked her about you, but she said you'd left. Rock didn't believe her. Afterwards, Rock took me with him into the city at night. To track Capability Reader. We watched him, just like the elders' man watched you and Rock. Rock taught me how, and it's not so different to tracking in the wild. We saw that Capability kept on going to Stern Greylight's big spice warehouse. The Rats were already suspicious about that place, anyway. And then Rock's parents' housekeeper came to the Bees' Nest."

"Rust Dewsinger?" Willow was still unsure about how truthful Rust had been to her.

"Rust, yes. He was looking for you. He thought you were here. When he and Rock got talking, they guessed you might be at Stern Greylight's warehouse. So, then I went to the warehouse with Rock and we tried to find you by talking to wharf mice, but that didn't work. Maybe they couldn't get in that crate the Harvesters had put you in, because the wood was too new for them to chew through and the floor was too hard. They told us the crate was there, anyway, and about the water pipe going inside it along the wall. They even tried to climb the pipe to get in the crate, but it was too slippery for them. In the end Rock got up onto the roof of the warehouse and found one of the water tanks, so he could talk to the pipe."

"He was tree speaking?" Willow asked. She had taught Rock to tree speak a little bit, but he was not all that good at it, yet.

"Yes," Wildcat answered. "He's pretty slow, but he can do it if he tries hard. The pipe told him where you were. It told him about the Green, too."

Willow had not realised the water pipe knew about the Green. It must be quietly aware of a great deal that went on in the warehouse below.

"We're going to go back for the Green," Wildcat said. "Anyway, Rock went up on the roof a second time, to give the pipe instructions for you. We couldn't risk punching a hole in the wall until you'd got the message, in case we crushed you instead of rescuing you. Syme and his drummers stood in front of the warehouse, drumming and shouting, and distracting all the night workers and anyone guarding you and the Green. And a gang with a big hammer and a battering ram broke in to the wall at the back to get to you."

This was a lot to take in. "So why didn't Rock stay?" asked Willow. "I suppose he knows about the branding."

"The mice saw. They told him," Wildcat admitted.

It was too much to bear. Willow pushed away her feelings and tried to block out all thoughts of Rock. "Don't tell me any more," she said to Wildcat. "I'm supposed to be describing the stillroom plants to you."

She needed some time to come to terms with everything she had just learned without discussing it further. Wildcat gave her an understanding look and did not argue.

For the rest of the day, the two girls stayed in the small room in Sparkle's cottage. Willow listed every one of the plants used in Red's stillroom. Wildcat paid careful attention, and asked questions about their uses. Willow was grateful for her friend's tactful avoidance of more uncomfortable subjects, including Willow's feelings for Rock.

The next morning, the girls met in the main room of the cottage, where there was a fireplace and a work table, and shelves for Sparkle's herbs. Leading off the main room were the one that Willow had slept in and another for Sparkle's own bed. Wildcat had been sleeping on the porch. She stepped out of the open doorway to fold her blankets.

"Hello. You'd better go in," Willow heard her friend say to someone.

Expecting to see one of the Bees' Nest people in the doorway, Willow glanced up. She saw Rock, looking right back at her. He walked silently into the room.

NINETEEN

Stepping suddenly forward, Rock made a grab for Willow's wrist. She cried out in pain.

"Uh, sorry, sorry," he mumbled, letting go at once.

After that, he just stared at Willow's arm. She could not read the expression on his face. Afraid to speak, feeling nothing but shame, she waited to know what Rock would do next.

He began to swear over and over again, much as Willow had done when she had first been locked up by his father. As Rock swore, he walked around the room, pacing faster and faster. Before long he was charging about like a confused boar.

Wildcat must have gone to fetch Sparkle. Both of them soon came indoors to join Willow in watching Rock.

He still wore his hillish clothes, rather more battered than when Willow had last seen him. He had trimmed the ends of his hair and tied it up with a strip of leather. In spite of his furious behaviour she could not help noticing how well it suited him.

"What a noisy mud-splasher he's being," Wildcat said, putting a hand on Willow's shoulder.

Willow had no idea what to do. Everything she had been waiting to say to Rock had disappeared from her mind the moment he had walked in.

"I'll have less of that noise, Jen Dawnweaver, if you please," said Sparkle, loudly.

"Don't call me that!" he responded. "That's a Harvester name. My name's Rock."

"You're behaving like a Harvester," replied Sparkle. "Blind to everything but yourself. Come and take a look at Willow – her face, not her arm."

Willow forced herself to return his gaze, finding it very hard to do so, because she felt so ashamed. "I couldn't stop them!" she burst out. "Capability wanted me to talk to the Green and I said no. The brand's a punishment, even though they all tried to pretend it isn't."

Rock's angry stare seemed to reflect all the harm the Harvesters had done right back at her.

"Go away!" she shouted at him, in desperation. "Leave me alone."

Standing still at last, right in front of her, he stubbornly refused to obey. "It's all my fault." he said, speaking more softly. "Only, why did you go and live with my parents? I warned you about them didn't I?"

"Willow took her own decisions," Sparkle interrupted, "just as you did, boy. Her wound will heal, but those Green in the warehouse still need rescuing and the Forest still suffers. Where have you been?"

"I found some old friends." He answered in a sullen tone that Willow was used to hearing from him. She had learned that it usually meant he was expecting to be criticised for his actions.

"You were right to get away," Willow said. "Capability Reader's looking for people with talents. Why didn't you warn me about that?"

Rock looked genuinely surprised to hear this news. "My parents taught me that talents don't exist," he said, slowly.

"So you weren't lying when you told me your parents never knew you could animal talk," Willow replied, thinking out loud, "but really, Capability knew all along."

The look on Rock's face told her he truly believed what he had told her. After staring at her for a moment longer, he turned and stalked away, out of the little cottage and into the leafy green gardens.

"He's so self-centred," Wildcat observed. "I don't know why you bother with him."

"He's hurt," said Sparkle. "But he'll recover." She put another log onto the gently burning hearth-fire. "Wildcat, could you start off some bread dough and then go and dig up another greenroot. Willow, I want you to come outdoors with me."

So Willow followed Sparkle out into the warm sunshine, only too glad to be told what to do. She felt much too upset to decide for herself. They went through gardens and past several other cottages without catching up with Rock. Finally, Sparkle led the way down a steep path leading towards the river.

"You might have to grab on to a sapling for balance," she said. "The ground's a bit slippy here. Mind your burn. I should have given you a cloth to cover it with. Here we are."

Sparkle stopped at the edge of the island, putting out a hand to steady herself against the trunk of a large willow tree. Willow had been named after such a tree. Her own name-tree grew beside the stream at the Healers' Cottages in Warner.

"This is the oldest willow tree I know. I came to talk to it about you and it said it would like to meet you," Sparkle explained, moving away from the tree and settling herself down on a dry patch of grass.

Willow could not refuse, even though she was too disturbed by Rock's arrival to feel much like tree speaking. She clambered down the path until she could stand solidly beside the tree, placing both her hands flat on its trunk. As she began to tree speak, her awareness included the insects living in the deep fissures of the tree's bark, and others clinging to its long leaves and rummaging among its roots. Since spending time in the marshes last summer's end, her talent had grown.

At first, Willow greeted the one tree in front of her. Then, because each willow is part of all willows, she found that she could catch snatches of the feel of her name-tree, too. It was such a very long way away that she was not able to hear it clearly. But she was sure that it was growing well, in spite of the dreadful damage it had suffered in a storm, just before she had left Warner. She tried to ask after Rinnet, her mother, and received a sense that she was also well. Willow could not remember ever having _talked_ to an individual plant over such a distance before. She could not help feeling a small surge of pride.

However, it was hard to tree speak from so far away, and Willow did not want her name-tree to sense her own unhappiness and tell Rinnet about it. What she hoped, was that Rinnet would only be able to pick up a vague feeling that Willow was alive and still in the city. If any Harvester or elders' person went searching for her as far as Warner, then Rinnet could tell them the truth, and they would learn nothing useful.

After greeting her name-tree, Willow returned her attention to the other tree right in front of her at the Bees' Nest. Being with the tree allowed her to forget the pain in her arm. The tree was simply not interested in patterns on the surface of the skin. It was old and its bark had many scars. They were unimportant to it. Instead, it seemed pleased that Willow had spoken to some of the Green. The tree agreed with Willow that the Green would die unless they could somehow be returned to the Forest. Finally, she patted its trunk gratefully and said goodbye.

"We've got to get those Green back to the Forest," Willow said aloud to Sparkle. "It's the only way to help them."

"That's better," Sparkle replied, getting to her feet. "I knew the tree would remind you what's most important. Now, I'm going to take you to Syme Deadlander so you can tell him everything you know about those Green."

After climbing the slope and walking past some pig pens and chicken coops, they joined Syme for a mug of redberry tea on his front porch. His cottage was on a small mound, facing across the river. As they sipped tea and watched witherbirds hunting insects over the water, Sparkle told him briefly about Rock's return. Syme did not so much as glance at Willow's brand. Instead, he listened carefully as she explained what she knew about the Green.

"Well, I found out something else that might help," he said when she was done. "I went over the rope bridge last night. All the talk in the taverns is about the Wanderers. They arrived a few days ago, camped outside the meadow gate as usual."

"So that's where the boy's been hiding," said Sparkle. She paused, looking thoughtful, then went on, "You think they might help with the Green? And there's a full moon in, what, three days? Willow, I think you and Naesy and Wildcat should all go to the Wanderers' skin dance. It's just what you young'uns all need. And the boy, too."

Syme was tapping the side of his nose and wrinkling his forehead as if it helped him to think. "Three days," he agreed. "It's quite a walk from here to the meadow gate and out of the city to their campsite. And we'll have to go in small groups, so the Harvesters don't get suspicious. You and I can talk to the older Wanderers, Sparkle, while the young'uns dance. All right, young Willow. That means we've got two days for you to tell everyone what you can remember about that warehouse. We need a plan."

Willow frowned. She was interested in the idea of a Wanderers' skin dance. If they danced at the full moon, it was likely their traditions were similar to those of the hill villages. However, she could not understand the importance of asking their help before rescuing the Green.

"The Wanderers have got horses and big wagons, see," Syme explained. "They travel to the Forest and beyond. We'll need a wagon to get the Green out of that warehouse without anyone seeing 'em, and I don't fancy trying to steal one from the Harvesters. Or we could try and get those Green onto a boat. But how do we move the boat quick enough so the Harvesters don't spot us before we're out of the city? Elders people watch the river all the time."

"Can't we just let them out to make their own way?" Willow asked. "Couldn't they use their talents to find the way back to the Forest?" She hated to think of the Green being shut up in their crate for longer than was necessary.

"Yes, they could, but they'd likely be hunted down before they got there," he replied. "That's if they even made it out of the city. What do you think the city people would do if they came across naked people with green hair? Creatures they think are animals? The Green are very good at hiding, but someone would spot one of them, sooner or later. No. Those Green didn't come here by choice, and they must be taken home in secret. If Green wanted to be seen in the city, they'd have come here by themselves before now. And it's no different anywhere else beyond the Forest. They'll need to be kept hidden the whole way home."

"Their homes have been harvested. They'll all have to find new ones when they get back," said Willow, suddenly feeling very tired, once more.

TWENTY

While Sparkle went away to talk to some of the other Rats of the Bees' Nest, Willow remained with Syme Deadlander. He wanted to know everything she could remember about the warehouse, the stillroom and Capability Reader's household. She gladly described as much as she could, pleased to be doing something to help the Rats, at long last.

Syme fetched a large tray of ripe berries which they sorted through as they talked, picking out the damaged ones. The sound berries were to be dried for use in winter. Willow used only her uninjured arm.

"Are all Harvesters as bad as each other, or is Capability Reader the worst?" she asked eventually, having finished telling Syme all she could.

"Not the worst, no," he answered. "Why does Stern Greylight want to make Capability rich, eh? Think about it. He could have built his own stillroom to attract talented youngsters and captured his own Green, but he paid Capability to do it for him, see. If their plans for the Green go wrong, Capability Reader will get the blame. Stern Greylight won't even be mentioned in the news-sheets. Well... now he might, if I go and tell them what you just told me."

He chuckled at this. Willow joined in, feeling cheerful for the first time in many days.

"So why did Stern Greylight want his daughter to be Rock's lover and living-partner?" This was something she had wondered ever since hearing about it from Semeley Greylight. Semeley had said something about Stern wanting to buy Capability.

"Then Stern Greylight would have seen the boy as his property. Stern would have given the boy and his father plenty of coin so the young'uns could have a good home together. But he'd have expected to get paid back, one way or another. The boy and his father would be in debt to him, see?"

Now she did see. Capability would have had to work for Stern without any more payment. So would Rock.

When he had boasted about it to Willow, Capability had seemed sure he was going to get very rich. But Stern had surely lied to him. If he had lied about what was being offered in partnering his daughter with Capability's son, he was probably still lying about how well Capability was going to do out of their project with the Green. Willow felt no sympathy at all for Rock's father. Stern Greylight was treating Capability just as Capability had tried to treat Rock and herself.

"The Spice City's a nasty dangerous place sometimes, Willow," Syme said next. "Do you want to go home to the hills? Goshi told me in his letter, he's spent less than three silver discs since he left the city. Other than the coin he gave to you and Rock, that is. He and I were young men when he went back to the hills. It must be very hard for you to see how much city-dwellers care about earning coin."

"I wish people would stop asking me if I want to go home," she replied, annoyed. "I came to help the Rats improve things here."

Then, trying to change the subject, she added, "I don't understand. Goshi was born in the hills. When did he come to the city?"

"Ah, that's a story." Syme grinned at her. "It was a long time ago. A very long time. There were still talents everywhere in the Spice City. Not as many as in the hills and marshes, even then, but there were some of us, and at least we were free to admit it. The harvest was a very new idea and none of the elders were Harvesters yet. I was a stone listener."

"You were? Then you're still one now."

"That's true, although it's not widely known. A long time ago, I worked for a stone merchant. And when Goshi came here with his living-partner, Druse..."

"Druse? Really?"

"Pretty girl. Bossy... didn't like it when I showed Goshi the taverns. She and Goshi had brought stone samples from their quarry. It had been closed for years and she wanted to open it up. They'd come to the city hoping to fix a price to sell stone. My job was to listen to the samples before giving them a price, see. Those stones remembered a terrible rock fall that had killed people, so I priced them low. I told Druse and Goshi the rock was unstable, and they should leave it alone. After that, with Druse pushing Goshi to earn coin some other way, and me... well, I wanted to do something new... we took work on one of the very first harvest runs. Druse stayed behind, but Goshi and I went to the Forest."

Willow stared at him.

"We didn't know, back then," he said, quietly. "We thought it would be like harvest in villagers' fields, just gathering what was needed and leaving the rest. We were young and strong and the Harvesters paid well, at first. But it wasn't long before we learned the harvest was all wrong. The Harvesters' plan made no sense. Even those with no particular talent, like Goshi, they all realised it was wrong before we'd been working there a half-moon. But the Harvesters could see a way to make coin and they weren't going to stop."

Willow had always thought Goshi hated the Harvesters because he enjoyed having someone to get angry with. She had not known he had actually seen the harvest taking place.

"The Harvesters want it all, see," Syme went on. "They harvest everything, right down to the rocks under the ground. The plants and the animals and the rocks all warned us. Deadland was all we ended up with afterwards. We were promised the land to plant crops on. That was supposed to be part of our payment. But the cleared land was all useless for any kind of crop. There was no strength in the soil, once the harvest was done. And the Forest fought us, too. Folk were eaten up by animals or insects, swallowed in bogs, sucked dry by slimevines."

"What's a slimevine?"

"Best hope you never find out, tree speaker or not."

"So was that why the Harvesters decided that the talents aren't real?" Several things that had been puzzling Willow for some time, suddenly started to make sense. "Was it because people with talents tried to stop the harvest?"

"That's it, yes. Instead of accepting they'd been wrong, the Harvesters found a way of pretending they were right. They got powerful quickly, because a lot of them were already rich. It wasn't long at all before most people started to believe their lies."

"Was that when you called yourself Deadlander?"

"Yes. As a sign of what I can never forget. And Goshi went home to the hills. He might have stayed here to cause trouble, but someone paid him off with a lot of coin. He wouldn't ever say who it was. But he kept on sending me letters, telling me everything he found out about the harm the Harvesters were doing, though never another word about that first harvest run. We worked on different teams, so I don't know what it was he saw that someone paid him not to talk about."

They had finished sorting the berries. Willow sat in the sunshine, lost in thought, while Syme arranged trays of berries for drying on a shelf under the overhang of the roof. Putting together her own ideas about how much Riversiders could benefit from using the talents, with what she had just learned from Syme, Willow kept on thinking about Naesy.

Later, when Sparkle returned. Willow asked straight away if she could visit her friend.

"Yes, it's time you did," Sparkle agreed. "Naesy needs a lot of rest, but if we're going to get her to a skin dance in three days' time, she'll have to get stronger fast. Yes, Willow, a visit from you might just persuade her to get up."

So Sparkle took Willow to a small cottage tucked away under two large oak trees.

"The woman who lives here has a spare room and she's willing to care for people needing mind-healing and quiet," she explained. "Wait here while I talk to her. Then come when I call you."

Willow never saw the woman whose cottage it was, but she was eventually allowed into the spare room. Naesy lay curled up in bed with her face hidden.

Hoping to be offered some instruction about how best to proceed, Willow glanced at Sparkle. But Sparkle simply pointed to the chair beside the bed and left. Willow sat down. After waiting in silence for a long time, she saw Naesy lift her head. Her black hair was so tangled, it looked like an untidy crow's nest.

"Go away," Naesy said.

Willow ignored this. "Sparkle wants us to go to the Wanderers' camp in three days' time. Can you get up?" she asked. "You'll need to get the strength back in your legs."

Naesy hid her head under the blanket, once more. Willow allowed her a short rest, then spoke again. "The sun's out. Will you come with me to sit on the porch?"

"No," came a muffled answer.

"All right then," Willow agreed, patiently. "If you don't feel like talking, I'll talk and you can just listen. I have to tell you some things you need to know."

Without waiting for a reply, she began talking about the warehouse, the Green, how Caul Driver had come and branded her, and what Capability Reader had said. She wanted Naesy to understand the truth about the Harvesters.

"Capability told me he wants to start a fashion," she warned, "like the thing about people not being lovers unless they're living- partners. Maybe when they've branded all their workers, they'll decide to brand their living-partners and their children, too."

Naesy said nothing, but Willow could tell she was listening. Wishing she could make Naesy promise never to have anything to do with Red or Capability again, Willow decided to change the subject. She knew it would be best for Naesy to make up her own mind in her own time.

"I keep thinking about the talents and Riverside," Willow said. "Once, when I was in the marshes where Wildcat comes from, I learned the talents are not exactly talents at all. They're just ways of listening properly. Anyone can do it if they can pay attention and learn. Lots of Riversiders could find their own wild plants to eat and make their own medicines. They could tell the rats and mice that there's an awful lot more to eat in the Harvesters' houses – only they mustn't eat the poisoned bait. Stone listening would be useful, too."

She waited to see if Naesy would lift her head out from under the blanket again, but there was no movement.

"Capability Reader and his friends are looking for people with talents," she went on, since Naesy had not spoken. "So the Riversiders would have to watch out for that, but if there were lots and lots of people with talents again, the Harvesters couldn't catch them all."

Finally, the blanket shifted and Naesy looked out again.

"So I was thinking that's what I might do, help any Riversiders who want to tree speak," Willow finished. "I thought you might like to help me."

Naesy shrugged.

"Maybe," she whispered. Then she lay back and shut her eyes, looking absolutely exhausted.

Soon afterwards, Sparkle returned to collect Willow, bringing the visit to an end.

TWENTY-ONE

It was time to leave for the Wanderers' camp. Willow stood near the rope bridge, waiting to set off with those Rats who would be making the trip. Only Rock was missing.

She looked around her at the Rats of the Bees' Nest. They tended to dress and wear their hair in their own particular way. Not all of them were as brightly coloured as Sparkle, or as weathered looking as Syme. There was not one style that marked them as members of the group, although they certainly did not look like most city people. They varied in age, too, although most had probably seen more than thirty summers.

There had been a great deal of disagreement among them about the best way to get the Green out of the warehouse. Willow had overheard suggestions that included capturing the guards in the middle of the night, and calling on the news-sheet writers to watch as the Green's crate was opened. Syme had argued for a noisy diversion in the warehouse while the crate was secretly broken into. The only thing they had all agreed on, was that they must talk to the Wanderers before acting.

Just as everyone was lined up ready to start across the rope bridge, Rock suddenly appeared at its other end. Willow saw him step out of a small clump of trees and walk onto the bridge. He must have seen all the people about to come the other way, but he appeared to ignore them. Willow moved to stand behind Syme Deadlander. She was afraid Rock would still be angry at the sight of her branded arm.

"Just in time, boy," Syme commented as Rock reached the Bees' Nest.

Rock nodded. "You've heard about the elders' announcement, then," he said.

"What?" asked Sparkle. "Syme means you're in time to come with us to visit the Wanderers."

"The elders want the Wanderers gone by next new moon."

There was a lot of discussion of this news among the Rats. As far as Willow could make out from the comments of those close to her, it seemed the Wanderers usually stayed all summer. Several people thought the elders must be afraid of what might happen if the Wanderers learned about the Green. Willow had no idea if the elders themselves knew about the Green yet, but it was certainly possible. As she watched from her position behind Syme's back, Rock caught her eye. Infuriatingly, he smiled at her, just as if nothing was wrong between them.

"Let's get going then!" Syme called out loudly, causing the general reaction to quieten down. "You can go with Sparkle, boy. Help with the cart. She's got medicines to trade with the Wanderers, see, and young Naesy's got to ride."

Sparkle's cart was already on the city side of the rope bridge, packed with goods that Willow and Wildcat had helped her to carry across earlier. The cart and horse had been lent to Sparkle by a sympathetic fruit-seller whose orchard was not far from Riverside. Apparently, Sparkle and the woman often traded favours.

A group of Rats, including Sparkle, Naesy and Rock, set off across the bridge straight away. Willow had been instructed to join Syme's group, who would walk a different route through the city. She continued to watch Rock. He did not look back at her. Yet, somehow, it felt as if his attention was on her all the time.

After Sparkle's group had left, Willow set off with Syme Deadlander, three other drummers, and Wildcat. Two more small groups of Rats would go separately behind them. Everyone would meet up when they reached the Wanderers.

The two girls chatted as they went. Eventually, the conversation turned to Rock, and Wildcat asked directly if he and Willow had been lovers.

Willow glared at her friend, who only laughed.

"I wish I had a lover. Not Rock, though. He's too sour," Wildcat said. "There ought to be more young people on that island."

"Rock and I weren't lovers," Willow explained quietly. She had no real reason to fear being overheard by Syme and the drummers. Nevertheless, the possibility made her feel embarrassed.

"I thought he was still in love with Kezzy," she went on. "Then I thought he started to say he liked me one night, but the next day he'd gone."

"I think your Rock likes you, all right, only he doesn't know how to tell you, so he just avoids it. He got himself all caught up in trying to protect you, when he should have been talking to you. What a slime-winder!"

"A what?"

"A slime-winder. It's a kind of fish. It lives in ponds in the marshes and wraps itself in that green slime that grows in ponds on sunny days. It's actually quite a nice fish, and the slime's got little insects in it that clean the fish's scales by eating the muck on them. But the marsh villagers call someone a slime-winder if they try and wriggle out of something by wrapping themselves up in something worse."

It was Willow's turn to laugh. She thought that sounded very much like Rock.

They soon left Riverside behind, following the drummers across a little bridge over a dry ditch, then onto a rough road between rows of small warehouses and workshops.

"Was that your first time back in Riverside since you came to the Bees' Nest?" Willow asked her friend.

"No. I've been there with Sparkle a few times," Wildcat replied. "Handing out food and medicines and trying to help sick people."

"Don't you think there must be people with talents in Riverside, even if they don't know it, or won't admit to it?" Willow did not mention Naesy. She thought it should be Naesy's own choice who she told about her talent.

"Bound to be," Wildcat answered without hesitation. "But they won't use them, will they? Someone would tell the elders' people."

"What would the elders' people do? Why do they let Sparkle get away with it?"

"They're wary of the Bees' Nest. If they actually saw Sparkle tree speaking, they might do something, but all they see is a woman giving away food. Ordinary Riversiders might use talents, but they'd have to do it in secret. If the elders' people caught them, they could fix it so they wouldn't ever be able to get any work. Or they could fine them – take away their coins and say it's a punishment for lying. That isn't a problem for Sparkle, of course. She doesn't need paid work and she doesn't carry any coins."

"What about the Riverside people who haven't got any work?" Willow persisted. "Or the ones who've already spent all their coins on dusk? They can't have anything to lose."

"There are some people who are beyond help," Wildcat replied. "Don't even think about trying to teach the talents to thieves and dusk dreamers. They'd knife you in the back to steal your clothes. You'd be wasting your time."

Before Willow had first met Wildcat, many people in the marshes had died from an outbreak of swamp fever, including Wildcat's own family. Wildcat had seen a great deal of suffering up close. Willow understood that when her friend seemed uncaring towards others, she was sometimes keeping her deeper feelings well hidden.

At last, they reached the city gate known as the meadow gate. There was no stone wall around this part of the city, but a very deep ditch ran away from the gate in either direction. The thick wooden gate, itself, was on top of the only bridge across the ditch. It was wide enough for a harvest wagon to get through.

The gate was wide open. Willow could already see the Wanderers' camp beyond, with its wagons and horses, tents and campfires. The camp was only just outside the city, on a large, grassy patch of grazing land. Willow, Wildcat and the drummers headed along the road leading through the gate.

There was a little wicker hut beside the open gate. Inside it was an elders' representative who checked the people coming and going. The bored-looking woman waved the party of Rats straight through. If she knew who they were, she obviously had no orders to stop Syme or his friends leaving the city.

Plenty of other city people were also making their way out to visit the Wanderers. Groups of people were passing through the gateway and crossing the ditch ahead of the Rats. Others came up behind.

Willow noticed a few Wanderers trying to go the other way. They were unmistakable, dressed like such long-distance travellers as Rummy the Trail, but with added decorations. They wore strings of tiny metal bells and glass beads. Their hats were woven from plants that Willow did not recognise. Some wore short cloaks with designs embroidered in brightly coloured threads. Their carrying-packs were made of the furry pelts of strange animals. The elders' woman in the wicker hut shouted at them, shaking her head and pointing back towards their camp. They all had to turn around and stay out of the city.

Meanwhile, there were plenty of city people following a rough track that went around the outside of the Wanderers' camp, out onto the open grass.

"The Wanderers' trading wagons are that way," explained Syme. "They're at the edge of the camp, facing the land they've kept clear for the skin dance. But that's not where we're going. Not yet. We want to go this way. There's someone we need to see."

He led his group straight into the camp, calling out to several Wanderers by name as he went. Their cheerful responses to his questions led him on a route through the wagons, tents and campfires. His drummers followed him, with Willow and Wildcat last of all. Eventually, they came to a central ring of carts and wagons.

"Wait here while I find Old Timber," Syme instructed the other Rats. Then he disappeared around the back of one of the wagons.

When he reappeared, he was accompanied by an old man. The man wore dark green trousers, and nothing above the waist except a collection of glass beads hanging around his neck. His skin was a rich brown, so that he did, indeed, look exactly like old timber. After smiling widely at everybody, he gestured towards the rising smoke of a fire beyond the wagons, giving a loud shout. At this, a small boy came running.

Old Timber said something to the boy, who took Syme by the hand and led him forward. Old Timber waved and smiled again, then went back to his wagon. The Rats all followed Syme and the boy to the campfire.

There, they were welcomed by a group of perhaps twenty Wanderers of all ages. The visitors were encouraged to sit down on mats made of some sort of woven grass. Willow and Wildcat were offered small, sweet cakes to eat, and cups of a strong drink like spicy mead. Syme explained that this drink was only offered to the people who were going to skin dance, because it was very special. He and the drummers were given ale.

In between welcoming the Rats and bringing refreshments, the Wanderers carried on cooking on their fire, coming and going from their wagons with food and equipment. They seemed always playful, teasing one another as they went about their work. They were all dressed in different combinations of clothing and decoration. Some had coloured patterns painted onto their skin.

It was comfortably warm near the fire. Willow liked the taste of the spicy drink, and the sweet cakes were very welcome after the long walk. She was nervous about the skin dance, and worried about the Green, and her arm hurt. Even so, she was starting to enjoy herself.

Then Sparkle arrived with Rock and Naesy. Their route into the city had been longer than the one Syme had chosen, for which Sparkle cursed Syme in front of everybody. She had left her cart at the edge of the camp, and soon persuaded a small group of Wanderer children to go and guard it. She promised them a large box of her best candied spring flowers in payment.

Rock sat down on the far side of the camp fire, not close enough for Willow to talk to him. She noticed that when he was offered the special drink, he refused it.

The Wanderers seemed particularly fond of Sparkle. As soon as she was offered a place by the fire, several men and women came to join her. From the way they began chatting, Willow guessed that these were healers and tree speakers, trading recipes and ideas with Sparkle. Naesy sat beside her. Never speaking unless she was spoken to, Naesy looked oddly serious next to Sparkle's multi-coloured skirts and hair.

Wildcat soon began chatting to some of the Wanderers. Willow barely joined in. She watched Rock, on the far side of the flames, wondering what he might be thinking. Trying to hide her interest, she quickly glanced away every time he looked in her direction.

Later on, they were joined by the other Rats of the Bees' Nest who had come across the rope bridge that morning. When the sky began to darken, Sparkle stood up and came towards Willow and Wildcat. Naesy followed her. So did one of the Wanderers, a man. He looked so much like a younger version of Old Timber that it was no surprise at all when Sparkle called out, "Willow, Wildcat, this is Young Timber. He will be leading your skin dance."

Both girls got to their feet.

"We are happy that you want to skin dance," Young Timber said. "Willow, may I see your burn?"

She unwrapped the cloth Sparkle had tied around her injured arm to keep it clean. Young Timber held one of his hands beneath her wrist to steady it, letting his other hand rest above the burn, close but not touching. Willow studied his expression, wondering if he was using a talent. She had never heard of a healer _listening_ to a wound, but thought that might be what he was doing.

"It will heal well," he said, finally. "You will dance. Come with me now. Naesy too, and Wildcat. We will watch two dances, then take our turn. Syme Deadlander and his drummers will join the friends' circle."

Tucking the cloth into the waist of her trousers, Willow began to follow Young Timber as he led them away from the fire.

He turned back once, to call out, "Old friend Jen, now called Rock, will you join us?"

Willow could not quite hear what Rock said in reply, but he stayed seated by the fire. He had turned his head away so that she could not see his face. She continued to walk after Young Timber, alongside Wildcat and Naesy.

They reached the edge of the camp furthest away from the city. Here the ground was level and open. It seemed full of visiting city-dwellers. Willow was dismayed to see so many of them.

"Outside circle," said Young Timber, waving his arm at the city-dwellers. "City people want to see Wanderers do strange and crazy dances. They will not see very much. True circle is further in. Wanderers are there. True circle protects friends' circle. Fire, pole and dance circle are in there, inside friends' circle."

Willow felt very nervous as she passed through the city people making up the outside circle. Some carried lanterns, in spite of the full moon now rising in a clear sky. There were groups sitting on the ground, eating and drinking. She was afraid these people only wanted to laugh at the Wanderers.

At last, she saw Young Timber stride into a clear space ahead. Then she could see more Wanderers beyond the city people. Young Timber called out and a young Wanderer girl came forward. She stepped up to Naesy, taking her hand and leading her on.

In order to leave the outside circle behind, Willow and Wildcat had to pass a group of young men who were play-fighting and pushing each other around. Young Timber was now some distance ahead. Just as Willow was starting to catch him up, one of the rowdy young men barged into her, causing her to stumble.

"Sorry," he muttered, lurching away from her.

Willow caught sight of his face. She was so surprised that she forgot the Harvesters did not know where she was.

"Shim," she said, without thinking. "Is that you?"

TWENTY-TWO

"Huh." Shim grunted. He was staring at Willow. She could smell that he had drunk a lot of ale. "Willow," he said eventually. "It's Willow, still in the city after all. Let's see it then. Let's see your brand."

He made a grab for her hand, holding up her branded arm and showing it to everyone around them before she could shake him off.

"Congratulations." Shim ignored her furious attempts to break his grip. "We're all going to get one soon. Except old Rust, who went into a mood and left us. When are you coming back? Or are you going to wait 'till Caul Driver catches you again?"

"Let me go, Shim Dealer!" Willow cried out, finally managing to pull her hand out of his grasp. It was too late to try and keep her identity secret, but she was not going to let him tell lies about what had happened to her. "You know they locked me up in a crate, don't you? Were you always paid to lie for the Harvesters, or was that night at the Rising Eel your first time?"

He did not even look ashamed. "Y...yea..." he stuttered. The ale was clearly helping to muddle his thoughts. "Well, you were stupid enough to turn down work from Capability Reader." Shim lowered his voice and bent his head, trying to whisper in her ear. "They've let me in on the secret about the talents, 'cause I'm going to be one of them, a top Harvester. Capability says he saw my potential and that's why Red gave me a job in the stillroom in the first place."

"Let go of me, Shim," Willow repeated, loudly. To her surprise, she found herself feeling slightly sorry for him. Obviously, Capability and Red had always intended to use him against the other stillroom workers.

"I thought I was doing you a favour, making sure you didn't spoil your chances by leaving," he said. "You should be grateful."

All of a sudden, his expression changed. "So who are your friends?" he asked. "Where are you living?"

She did not answer. For some time, she had been aware of Wildcat creeping up on them, although none of the young men seemed to have noticed. As soon as Wildcat was close enough, she suddenly rushed at Shim with her hands extended towards his face. Her fingernails almost looked like claws.

"I'll tear you into little pieces right now, Harvester!" she yelled.

Shim quickly stepped backwards. Wildcat had very nearly succeeded in raking his face with her nails.

Shim's companions began to cluster around Wildcat, rather slowly at first. They were obviously just as drunk as Shim was. Once they got the idea, though, they started muttering amongst themselves about enjoying a good fight. Willow did not think the two girls could possibly beat them. She and Wildcat were heavily outnumbered.

There were plenty of other city people around, too. Quite a few of them were looking on with interest, although no one seemed likely to interfere. Most of them were laughing.

All of a sudden, just as Willow was starting to get really frightened, she saw a number of Wanderers. They must have moved out from the true circle as soon as they noticed the trouble. Soon, Wanderers had come to stand between Wildcat, and Shim and his friends. The Wanderers made no attempt to threaten anyone, but their expressions made it clear that no fighting would be allowed.

Willow felt a touch on her shoulder, then found herself being gently guided away by someone holding on to her arms. Turning her head, she saw a smiling Wanderer man. Without speaking, he urged her on towards the centre of the true circle. Looking for her friend, she saw that a woman was guiding Wildcat, too. Without once glancing back at Shim, Willow allowed herself to be led right through the true circle. Ahead, she could now see a skin dance pole and a dance fire.

Soon catching up with Young Timber and Naesy, Willow began to feel dizzy with shock. Shim had succeeded in bringing back all the misery she felt because of the branding. The Wanderer man who had led her this far gave her a parting smile and went away, as did the woman who had been with Wildcat and the girl with Naesy. From inside the true circle, looking out, Willow could hardly see the city people anymore. Only cheerful Wanderers closely surrounded the central dancing space.

Young Timber did not even mention what had just happened. He simply led the three girls towards a small group of other Wanderers seated together at one side of the fire.

"We wait and watch from here." he said. "Skin dance is now, all else is behind us."

The skin dance pole and the fire were ringed by yet more Wanderers. Many of them carried drums. "Friends' circle," said Young Timber, pointing at them.

The girls sat down. Trying to calm herself, Willow studied the pole. To her relief, it looked similar to those used in the hill villages, nothing like the one she had seen in the Wildfire Tavern. It was made from the whole trunk of a young tree. A metal ring fixed to the top was hung with long slackvine ropes.

Wildcat seemed so excited to be at a skin dance that she followed Young Timber's advice and said nothing more about Shim. The marsh villagers had not done skin dances, so this would be her first.

"What's it like? Does it hurt?" she asked Willow.

"Yes, of course it hurts, but not as much as branding." However much she wanted to honour the Wanderers and their skin dance, Willow could not forget how Shim had betrayed her. Thanks to him, she was now marked forever as Rock's father's property.

"Sorry," she apologised to Wildcat. "I just wish..."

"That I'd got a chance to pull that Harvester's face off?"

"That's right. Shim Dealer lied to me. He... I thought he was nice... I almost trusted him."

"It's usually best not to trust anyone," Wildcat replied.

Naesy said nothing. Willow rather hoped she had been listening, though.

After that, Wildcat began chatting to a yellow haired Wanderer boy. Willow listened in, as the two of them discussed where they hoped to receive their skin dance scars. The boy gave his name as Ear Music, which made Wildcat laugh rudely. He did not seem to mind, saying that his name referred to a kind of hard shell belonging to a sea creature.

Ear Music explained that the Wanderers held a skin dance every full moon, wherever they happened to be camped. Willow could see that he already had several old skin dance scars on his arms and chest. He wore no clothing on the top half of his body.

He must have noticed her looking. "Nine summers I was, first time," he said proudly. He was pointing out what she assumed was his very first scar, at the top of his upper arm.

Wildcat continued to ask him questions. From his answers, Willow understood that the dancers could not choose where they wanted their scars to be. The leader of each dance would say where on their bodies the dancers would be pierced. If a dancer did not agree, then they must leave the pole.

Willow glanced towards Naesy. She was staring into the distance, and hardly looked capable of making any choice at all.

The first dance leader led her group to the dance pole. In the friends' circle, those carrying drums began a soft, slow rhythm. The dance leader went up to each of her dancers in turn, to cut into their skin with pieces of knifegrass. She then threaded stitchbark slivers through the cuts and tied the stitchbark to the ends of the ropes. Some dancers were pierced through the skin of the palm of one hand, as Willow and her friend Emmie had been in Warner. Others were attached to the rope with piercings in their arms or chests.

Finally, the leader cut her own chest and attached herself to the last rope. Then the dance began, to the sound of drumming and singing from the surrounding friends' circle. The song was not one that Willow recognised. Wildcat asked Ear Music about it, and he said the words were in a language that the Wanderers only spoke among themselves.

The dance pole was taller than the one Willow had seen raised in Warner. The lengths of slackvine attached to the top were therefore longer, allowing the dancers to keep well away from the fire. This meant there was less danger of ropes getting singed or dancers falling into the fire, although the dancers had to work harder at keeping their ropes taut.

No one faltered and no one pulled free of their rope before the end. Dancers were aided by people in the friends' circle, who ran forward to help at any hint of a slight stumble or snagged rope.

Willow scanned the friends' circle looking for Rock, thinking that if he was not going to dance, he might have borrowed a drum so as to join in. She glimpsed him talking to a couple of the Wanderers at the far side of the circle, but he did not seem to be carrying a drum, or even paying much attention to the dance. Soon, she lost sight of him again.

As the first dance finished, Wanderers from the friends' circle rushed to congratulate the dancers. They helped support each one until the leader came to cut them free of the ropes. Willow could see that every skin dance scar would be neat and clean, with no torn skin from pulling the stitchbark roughly out of the wound.

During the next dance, one young boy tripped and fell. For a few heartbeats, she was very afraid for his safety, but two friends ran to help him straight away. One cut him free of the rope and the other guided the dancers coming up behind. The dance went smoothly on. A short time later, Willow saw the boy in the friends' circle, singing along and looking perfectly cheerful.

After the second dance, the drummers rested briefly. Then it was time for Young Timber to lead his own group out to the dance pole. Feeling suddenly very nervous, Willow stood up to join them. Wildcat stayed close as they went forward.

Young Timber pierced Naesy first of all, choosing to do it through the palm of her hand. Willow saw him show Naesy how to cup her free hand around her pierced one, so that the stitchbark would not pull until the dance started. Naesy stared as moonlight filled her open palm. Willow had once done exactly the same thing at her own first skin dance.

Next, Young Timber pierced the chests of several eager boys, including Ear Music. Then he beckoned Wildcat to him and pierced her upper arm, attaching her to the rope beside her new friend. Willow was next. Young Timber reached out to take her branded arm.

"A leafless tree," he said, looking at it thoughtfully. "Harvester's mark?"

Willow nodded. Her chest felt cold and tight as shame filled her up, yet again.

Pointing with two of his fingers, Young Timber indicated two spots either side of the part of the burn that stood for the base of the tree trunk. "Cut here and here," he said. "Make two marks to stand for new saplings, fallen leaves, whatever you like. Hurt very much. Burn will pull, skin tear – make new mark. You choose. This arm, or the other one?" Letting go of her hand, he pointed to her uninjured wrist.

Without speaking, Willow held out her branded arm towards him, shutting her eyes as she waited for him to pierce it.

TWENTY-THREE

A new fire seemed to flow along Willow's arm as Young Timber threaded stitchbark through the piercing. When it was over, she finally opened her eyes. Young Timber seemed to be studying her. It took several deep, slow breaths before she felt steady enough to smile back at him.

He led her to one of the slackvine ropes hanging from the skin dance pole, then tied on the free ends of the stitchbark. As he worked, he called out to someone in the friends' circle, but Willow did not see who it was. She was too shocked from the pain of her piercing to even take in what was said. A moment later, Young Timber moved on to the next dancer, a tall Wanderer boy.

Resting her pierced and branded arm on top of her other hand, Willow looked along the slackvine rope, tracing its route to the top of the dance pole. She concentrated on trying to breathe evenly, in spite of the pain in her arm.

"Are you all right, Willow?" came Wildcat's voice from behind her.

"Yes." She tried to sound as if it was true. "Do you think Naesy's all right?"

"I think so. Young Timber's rope will be next to her. She was the first to be pierced and he'll do himself last. He'll look after her." Wildcat's voice sounded perfectly normal, as if her piercing was not hurting her at all.

The drumming grew louder. Willow braced herself for the agony of letting her pierced arm take the full weight of the slackvine. Further around the circle of dancers, she saw Young Timber attach himself to the last free rope. He showed no hesitation as he cut into his own chest and threaded the stitchbark through. As soon as his stitchbark was tied on, he stepped towards Naesy and the dance began.

All the other dancers also started walking around the pole. Willow knew she must keep her rope taut, staying roughly the same distance between Wildcat, behind, and the Wanderer boy, in front. As the song and the drumming began to speed up, the dancers went along with the music. Soon they were going so fast it was almost like running.

The pain was worse than Willow had expected. Even so, she almost welcomed it, knowing that the dance would change the pattern of her scars, removing what Capability Reader had done.

The dancer ahead of her had been pierced through his chest. Fixing her gaze on his strong shoulders and the muscles of his back helped Willow to remain focussed on the rhythm of the dance. The boy kept both arms out to his sides, leaning away from the pole, tensioning the rope through the piercing. In front of him, was a Wanderer girl so light-footed, she seemed to be skipping the dance, in spite of a piercing through her upper arm.

When Willow began to feel dizzy from staring straight ahead, she tried looking down at the heels of the boy in front. Her own feet and legs moved easily, but every jolt of the rope pulled at the wound on her arm, sending out long flames of pain.

Moving her feet in time with the drumming and keeping her slackvine rope taut, needed so much concentration she hardly noticed time passing. By refusing to let the pain distract her from the dance, she was able to endure it. At last, the song changed and slowed, signalling the end.

As soon as she stood still, Willow felt her arms and legs start to tremble. The boy ahead turned round and bowed to her. Long ribbons of blood decorated his chest. He smiled, his eyes shining in the firelight.

Wanting to follow the Wanderers' customs, Willow tried to bow to him in return. She bent forward. But then she found herself unable straighten up again. The ground seemed to come towards her as she continued to fall, suddenly too dizzy to stop herself.

She felt someone's arms catch her around the waist, lifting her up just in time to prevent her nose smashing into the earth. Embarrassed, she tried to struggle upright. The pull of the stitchbark against her wounded arm eased, suddenly. Someone must have cut it away from the rope.

"There, that's done it," said a voice she recognised. It was Rock, sounding very out of breath.

Still feeling dizzy, Willow shut her eyes. She heard Wildcat's voice close to her ear, and felt hands on her shoulders, guiding her to walk. Then someone wrapped a blanket round her and made her sit on the ground. By the time her head began to clear, another skin dance had already begun. She found herself seated in the dancers' area near the fire, surrounded by all the rest of Young Timber's dancers.

Wildcat was right beside her. "Feeling better?" she asked. "Young Timber can give you a dressing for your arm if you like."

"After sunrise," Willow replied. "I'm not too hurt to keep to skin dance customs. Where did Rock go?"

Before answering, Wildcat grabbed a water jug that was being passed around.

"Drink!" she instructed, handing it to Willow. "Drink a lot. You need to. Rock's still in the friends' circle. Only dancers are allowed this near the fire. He ran round the friends' circle keeping up with you through the whole dance. Didn't you even see him? In the end, so many drummers were cheering him on, they nearly went out of time."

"What? Why?" Willow had not even glanced at the friends' circle during the dance. She had been too busy trying to bear the pain of her piercing.

Wildcat laughed. "Well, some of the Wanderers thought Young Timber was taking too much of a risk, piercing you on that burn. They thought you wouldn't make it to the end of the dance. I knew you would. Rock was going to help you if you fell, only you never did."

"Oh." Willow hardly knew what to think.

By the end of the last skin dance, the moon was low in the sky. Then Wanderers from the friends' circle and the true circle were allowed to come to the fire. All the skin dancers got to their feet, showing off their bloodstains. These would decorate the dancers' bodies until after dawn the next day, when they would be cleaned.

Looking at her injured arm in the firelight, Willow could not tell how the scar would be once it was healed. The brand was now covered in partly dried blood. There were two ragged holes where the stitchbark had been threaded, just as Young Timber had promised.

It was not long before most of the other visiting Rats had joined the skin dancers by the last embers of the fire. At the outermost reach of its glow, Willow could see faint moving lights. The city people were heading home, carrying lanterns. She looked about for Rock, but could not see him anywhere.

Sparkle came over, accompanied by Naesy.

"Come away to my cart now, both of you," Sparkle insisted. "I won't make you wash those wounds before dawn, but you both need to rest, or they won't heal well."

Naesy gave a Willow a brief smile. There was more cheerfulness in her eyes than Willow had seen there for some time.

Willow felt much too tired to argue with Sparkle. Leaving Wildcat to enjoy the rest of the night with her new Wanderer friends, she made her way to the cart. After lying down beside Naesy on a folded blanket, she was very soon asleep.

Long after dawn the next day, Willow awoke to find that Naesy was already outside the cart, helping Sparkle tend a small campfire.

While Naesy heated redberry tea, Sparkle began cleaning Willow's arm and dressing her wound. Willow examined the raw and jagged edges of her new mark. The skin had been badly torn. Sparkle covered the wound with a pad of healing leaves, under a cloth held in place with a bandage.

"Did you and Syme talk with the Wanderers about rescuing the...?" Willow started to ask.

"We talked a great deal," Sparkle replied, interrupting her.

"Did you make a plan?"

"Eventually."

She did not seem eager to explain what the plan was. Then Willow remembered meeting Shim. And wondered how long it would be before Capability Reader found out she had been seen, and came after her.

"We're running out of time!" she burst out.

Sparkle got to her feet. Beckoning for Willow to follow, she began walking away from the fire. As Sparkle led her across the rough grass and into a small copse of trees, Willow finally realised that Naesy must not overhear them.

"Tonight," Sparkle said in a low voice, "a group of Wanderers and Rats dressed like city people will go to the warehouse. When they get there, the Wanderers will admit who they are, and accuse the Harvesters of cheating them. They'll pretend to search the warehouse looking for a batch of treasurebark. They'll claim they traded treasurebark for some spices that turned out mouldy, so they want their treasurebark back. After that, someone will pretend to notice the Green's crate for the first time, and say the treasurebark must be hidden inside. They'll make a lot of noise trying to get into the crate from the front. While no one's looking, a small group will sneak round the back to cut a hole in it. Then the Green can go through the hole in the wall we made to get you out. Even if the Harvesters have filled it in, it's probably still weak enough to break easily. All this will have to be done before dawn, when there's hardly anyone about in the streets."

"But what if...?" Willow could see so many possible problems with this plan, she hardly knew where to start.

"It won't all work, everyone knows that," Sparkle replied. "This plan's just to get us started. When something goes wrong we can make up new plans as we go along. The important thing is, you're right, we have to start soon. Wildcat's already told us about that Harvester boy recognising you."

"I'm going with you, though," said Willow. "I can't just stay behind."

"Of course you are," Sparkle agreed, surprising her. "I wouldn't have told you the plan otherwise. We don't want the Green to panic, and they'll recognise you from when you spoke to them before. You must go first into the crate. The Wanderers say that Wildcat and Rock should go too, because you three are close and they think the Green will sense it. If the Green trust you, they'll also trust Rock and Wildcat. And your friends can help you, if you have trouble persuading the Green to go with us."

Willow bit back a sharp comment about whether Rock would turn up when he was needed. He had stopped her breaking her nose when she fainted, after all.

TWENTY-FOUR

At Sparkle's cart, Willow, Naesy and Wildcat helped Sparkle trade with the Wanderers. Sparkle was the only one who could freely use both her arms. Like Willow, Naesy and Wildcat wore thin bandages to protect their skin dance wounds from dirt. But neither of them seemed to find their fast-healing scars particularly painful. Willow knew she was moving far more stiffly than her friends. Her arm still hurt fiercely.

Sparkle's medicines, and other goods from the Bees' Nest, were swapped for useful things the Wanderers had collected on their travels. As the day went on, Sparkle obtained glass bottles, brightly coloured cloth, rare plants, stoppered jars of oil, boxes of salt, and various unusual stones she said Syme would like.

Meanwhile, Syme was elsewhere, helping to disguise Wanderers as residents of the city. Not far away from Sparkle's cart, other Wanderers were busy filling one of their largest wagons with food for the Green. Piles of edible wild plants were stacked inside it. When Sparkle noticed Willow looking across at them, she explained that the Wanderers were _talking_ to every plant they gathered, just as the Green would do themselves.

She spoke quietly, out of Naesy's hearing. Willow now understood that no one could tell Naesy about the plan to rescue the Green. Naesy might still be thinking of returning to Red's stillroom. When Willow had first told her about the Green, Naesy had shown no surprise. Though that could have been due to her mind-sickness rather than anything she already knew.

Earlier on, Sparkle had told Willow a little more of the plan. The wagon would be taken into the city by some Wanderers disguised as village farmers. They would pretend to be carrying fresh plants for city markets. The wagon would be positioned in a quiet side street to await the Green. Willow was very afraid it might all end in disaster. All the possible ways things could go wrong kept springing into her head, keeping her in a constant state of worry.

She saw Rock just once, from a distance. He was leading one of the Wanderers' horses, hauling on ropes tied to a freshly broken drost tree branch. The branch had fallen in a stream bed. It was laden with berries whose weight was probably what had caused it to snap. The berries would be sour, not fully ripe yet, but safe to eat.

Rock showed no sign that he noticed Willow looking. He seemed to be totally absorbed in his work. She really wanted to talk to him. A familiar irritation started to bother her. Rock was being his usual annoying self, avoiding a difficult conversation.

Towards the end of the day, the work in Sparkle's wagon eased off. By then, Wanderers' goods were piled high, ready to transport back to the Bees' Nest. And Sparkle's store of medicines and other goods had shrunk to almost nothing. Wildcat and Naesy had been working tirelessly, although Naesy was still very quiet. She was no longer anything like the rude, self-assured girl that Willow had known in Red's stillroom.

From time to time, though, Willow did see Naesy looking hard at Wildcat. Naesy was obviously fascinated by the girl from the marshes. That was hardly surprising. Wildcat was quite a sight, with her rough clothes and her thick red hair always decorated with a collection of leaves, twigs and feathers, most of them put there on purpose.

At dusk, Sparkle shut up her cart. She and the three girls made their way to Old Timber's fireside. There, they ate a meal of flatbread and roasted vegetables. Afterwards, Wildcat, Naesy and Sparkle helped Old Timber to clean and put away his pans.

Willow remained by the fire, watching the flames. Sparkle had instructed her to rest while she had the chance.

Then, all of a sudden, Rock arrived, surprising her. He came straight across and immediately sat down next to her on the grass. Just when she thought she had managed to forget about him, he had decided to approach her after all.

"Where have you been?" she said. "Have you been hiding from me? It's like you don't you even want to speak to me anymore."

"Have you missed me?"

"No. I just wondered if you were all right."

"I'm all right," he replied. "Willow, can I look at your arm?"

"What?" she murmured, feeling too ashamed to raise her voice. "Do you have to see how bad it is before you decide if it's safe to be near me?"

"No, no, no. Don't think that. I don't care what your arm looks like. I don't care what any of you looks like. No, that's not what I mean. You look nice. It's just... he hurt you and I couldn't quite believe he really would do that. Even though I know what he's like. I still wanted it not to be true."

After this speech, Rock was silent for a long time. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes it's easier for me to talk to animals than people," he admitted. "Sorry."

"You've got to try and talk to me," said Willow. She was very tired of his stubborn awkwardness. "Tell me honestly why you left me alone in the lodging-house with no warning."

"Caul Driver," he answered after a pause. "I didn't want him taking us to my parents. That's the honest truth."

"But he took me there anyway."

"I was stupid."

"I still don't really understand it all," Willow persisted. "I know Caul Driver works for the Harvesters and the elders for coin, but he wasn't happy about branding me. I could tell he knew it was wrong and he didn't want to do it, even though he never said so. And Rust said he and Caul Driver were going to try and help Naesy's brothers and Iris."

Rock shrugged as if to say he did not understand it all, either.

"And what about Rust?" she asked. "Is he a Harvester, too? He told me he had friends who are Rats."

"Did he?" Rock seemed surprised. "I don't really know what he is, Willow. Rust was kind to me when I was a child, but he was paid to look after me. And everything I've ever learned from my parents comes down to one thing, don't trust anyone."

Willow lifted the pad of fresh green leaves bandaged over her arm. When Rock saw her raw and damaged skin he started swearing, cursing his father and all the other Harvesters. Listening to him gave Willow a satisfying feeling, like some kind of revenge.

"It won't look anything like Capability Reader's brand when it's healed," she assured him. "The skin dance changed it."

But she knew Rock ought to be told the whole truth about what had happened to her while she had lived in his parents' house. "Rock," she whispered, once he had finally run out of curses. "I have to tell you this, but it's hard to say. Your father, Capability Reader... he made me think he wanted me as a lover. He said it was all right because I was his property."

Rock became absolutely silent.

"I refused. I wouldn't... not ever... Lovers should care about each other, not use each other.... I... also, Shim, in the stillroom... well, I refused him too," she went on, before she could lose the courage to admit everything. "And I heard about how Capability made you skin dance in a tavern, and I know that he and Stern Greylight wanted you and Hinton to..."

"So now you know," Rock interrupted her. "You know why I would do anything to keep my parents away from you, Willow. Why I would even go away and leave you, if that was the best way to keep them from finding you."

"But I wish you'd stayed, Rock," she could not help telling him. "Not because of what happened afterwards, but because I did miss you. I really did."

"I'm sorry," he replied. Then, suddenly looking down at his knees, he went on as if nothing new had been said. "So, do you think this plan to rescue the Green is going to work?"

"I don't know," she answered, feeling even more confused.

Before they could talk further, it was time to set off for the city. Sparkle and Wildcat returned with Syme, but Naesy and Old Timber were not with them. Sparkle explained that Old Timber was chatting with Naesy. He was learning about Riverside, and keeping Naesy occupied while the Green's rescuers left the camp. Afterwards, Old Timber would tell Naesy about the Green. Once the rescue was under way, nothing Naesy could pass on to the Harvesters would make any difference.

Once all the Rats and Wanderers involved in the rescue were together, Young Timber began organising them into groups. As Syme had done with the Rats the day before, he sent each group off following a slightly different route. Any large group travelling together was bound to attract the attention of elders' people.

It was after dusk and the moon was already risen. Rock and Willow were in the same group, this time, with six Wanderers. These were strangers to Willow, although she noticed several of them smiling at Rock as if they knew him.

Everyone walked in silence, hoping to pass into the city unnoticed. At the gate, they tried to look like weary sightseers, who had been out for a gawp at the Wanderers' camp and only wanted to get home. An elders' woman inside the wicker hut came out with her lantern as they approached, but she let them all through without comment.

During the long walk that followed, Willow exchanged many worried glances with Rock, but they did not speak. Soon, Willow's feet were aching, and her injured arm throbbed. She was not so much exhausted from the walk, but from the fear that some Harvester, or elders' person, would recognise her or Rock, or see through the Wanderers' disguises. There seemed to be an unusually large number of leather-clothed people around in the city streets. It was no good dodging out of their way. That would only make them suspicious.

To Willow's great relief, the Rats' and Wanderers' strategy of just walking as if they had every right to be in the city, worked perfectly. They were not challenged once. In fact, all the elders' people they passed seemed preoccupied, as if they were very busy with something else.

At last, Willow's group rejoined all the other Rats and Wanderers who had come to rescue the Green. They met in a small deserted square surrounded by unlit buildings. There, they waited. One of the Wanderers scouted ahead, to see if it was safe to carry on to the warehouse. If so, they would all go there, surge forward together and then split up. Some would go to the big front doors, and some to the side doors. With luck, at least a few might get inside.

Willow and Rock stood with Wildcat, Young Timber, and some of Syme's drummers. Young Timber and the drummers were dressed in plain, ordinary clothes. Willow had been given a clean blouse to wear. It had close-fitting long sleeves to cover the bandage on her arm.

She could hear Rock's steady breathing close beside her. It was too dark to see his face. Above them, moonlight shone on the roofs of buildings, but they stood in the shadows beneath.

"I keep expecting Caul Driver to jump out at me," she whispered. "Or those two dung-lickers that captured me."

"Tell me about Red's stillroom, to pass the time," he whispered back.

So she began to talk very quietly, telling him what the stillroom had been like, and what happened afterwards in the warehouse. After several stops and starts, she found that saying it aloud did help. Not so much to pass the time, but to remind herself that all of it was now over, and she could put it behind her.

Wildcat remained nearby. Willow knew that she was close enough to overhear, but her friend made no comment. Finally, Young Timber began making his way along the line of Rats.

"The scout's back," said Wildcat, softly.

"Something is not right," Young Timber explained when he reached them, "but we go on. Elders' people with weapons are in streets, but not near warehouse. Be very careful. It may be a trap for us. Harvesters must not take you, as well as Green."

He led them onward. Soon, Willow stood in front of the big warehouse. It was obvious that something was badly wrong. The huge main doors were wide open. She wondered if the Harvesters had moved the crate of Green elsewhere. In fact, the whole place looked deserted.

There was no difficulty getting inside. The Rats and Wanderers simply walked straight in. Willow found it surprisingly hard to make herself go with them, even with Rock and Wildcat close by. Being inside the warehouse brought back too many awful memories. She looked around warily, expecting some kind of attack.

All the lanterns were lit, yet no warehouse workers stood at the lines of benches. The Rats and Wanderers began to explore, but they all seemed uncertain about what to do. It was clear that something important had already happened inside the building. Stools were overturned. Piles of plants and packing materials lay abandoned on workbenches or strewn across the floor.

Willow kept heading for the crate at the far end of the warehouse, even though she wanted to turn around and run straight out of the awful place. Rock and Wildcat stayed by her side. She noticed that Sparkle, Syme and Young Timber were also following her lead. Elsewhere, other Rats and Wanderers continued to spread out.

The sight and smell of the warehouse brought back such memories of being imprisoned in Capability's wretched crate that soon Willow could only think of the Green. Not even considering whether it was safe to do so, she began running towards the place where the crate stood.

There, she saw straight away that this was no trap to catch the Rats. They had come too late. The crate was still in place, but its door was wide open and it was empty.

"Someone else has been here already and let them out," she said aloud.

The smaller crate that had been hers was gone. Behind the space where it had stood, the hole in the wall had been roughly repaired. Glancing higher up, she was relieved to see that the water pipe remained undamaged.

"If Green are loose, running in this city," said Young Timber, "no one will catch them again. They will be very afraid. They will be hungry. They could be on rooftops, in trees, anywhere."

"What do they eat?" asked Wildcat.

"Anything," he replied.

Loud footsteps echoed through the empty warehouse. Someone was hurrying towards the intruders.

"What's this, what's this?" a man's voice called out loudly.

Stepping from the shadow of a tall row of stacked boxes, came the man who had shouted. Lines around his mouth and eyes all turned downwards, suggesting that he never smiled. He wore a fine embroidered shirt that must have cost a great deal of coin. Following him, were two men that Willow did not recognise, either. Behind them, came Capability Reader.

Willow grew suddenly cold with terror.

"Oh bulls' testicles," said Rock.

"Less of that!" Capability Reader answered, as if he could not help himself, however surprised he was to have come across his son, at last.

The man who had spoken first, glanced behind at Capability, then turned back to study Rock more closely. "What's your name boy?" he snapped out.

"My name is Rock," Rock said. "A long time ago it was Jen Dawnweaver. I know you. Your name is Stern Greylight."

"Oh." The man frowned even more deeply than before. "I didn't recognise you at all. Well, I own this warehouse and I want to know what you and this crowd are up to. Something has been stolen from me and I want it back."

Young Timber stepped quickly in front of Rock. "We know nothing of that," he said. "We are Wanderers from outside your city. We will take back treasurebark given for bad spices. Top quality treasurebark. Best tree-climbers risked lives to cut it, but you did not give fair payment, so we take it back. That is all. No need for anyone to be hurt."

"It's the middle of the night. Capability Reader's son is with you," replied Stern Greylight, obviously unconvinced.

"As I said," Young Timber insisted. "No argument. Wanderers will not be cheated."

Whatever Stern Greylight intended to say remained unspoken. Just then, a young man dressed in leather and holding a spear approached him.

Willow had not noticed the young man entering the warehouse because all of her attention had been on Capability Reader and Stern Greylight. The newcomer's expression clearly showed he had something important to tell the other Harvesters.

TWENTY-FIVE

Stern Greylight gestured at the scattered plants on the warehouse benches.

"There's no treasurebark here," he said, addressing Young Timber. Then he turned to the young man with the spear. "Yes?"

"No luck," the young man replied. "Not one of them's even been seen. Not even the one that..." At a wave of Stern Greylight's hand, he shut his mouth abruptly.

"You have a problem?" asked Young Timber, who had not moved. "Could we help?"

All the other Rats and Wanderers had come to stand behind him. No one was pretending to look for treasurebark any longer. Willow noticed that Capability was staring at her. "What's she doing here?" he suddenly demanded, pointing at her. "She belongs to me."

At this, Syme Deadlander and Sparkle stepped forward to stand either side of Willow, edging Rock and Wildcat out of the way.

"I beg your pardon?" Syme said loudly.

"She is my property," Capability replied. "You can't get away from me by running off with the Wanderers, girl. When my son tried that I had him brought straight back." He glanced briefly at Rock, adding, "I can do it again."

Willow stood up straighter, reminding herself that the skin of her arm no longer even showed Capability Reader's mark. It was hard not to shrink away from him, but she refused to let herself do it. She wanted to reach out and touch Rock, for reassurance, but Syme was in her way.

"I hadn't heard that people can now be someone else's property," Syme commented, sounding very fierce. "Is it a new fashion? Will we be reading about it in the news-sheets? My friend Willow has told all of us about the time she was kept in this warehouse. Is that kind of thing a new fashion, too? Are you proud of what you did?"

Watching the Harvesters, Willow could tell the exact moment the two whose names she did not know, realised who she must be. Their faces changed as they slowly realised why Capability was so angry about her being there. Stern Greylight showed no surprise. He must have guessed who she was, as soon as Capability began complaining.

"Now listen to me," Syme said to all four of them. "It seems there are some Green loose in the city. I should think you'd like them found before anyone else sees them. Before everyone blames Harvesters for bringing them here and letting them get loose. So it's lucky for you, we have someone with us who can talk to these Green. But Willow stays with us, and belongs only to herself. If you try and hurt her again, I promise you the news-sheets will print stories all about it. And about the Green, too. Now, what will you pay us to solve your problem for you discreetly?"

"Willow belongs to me," insisted Capability.

It was too much. Willow could not hold out against him any longer. Tears grew behind her eyelids, and she lowered her eyes in shame.

"You filthy slime-pisser!" Rock shouted at his father.

"Swamp ferret's mouldy heap of stinking guts! Bog maggot!" Wildcat added.

They had surprised Willow into looking up. She saw both of them head towards Capability, as if intending to tear his head from his neck. But then Sparkle flung her arms firmly around Wildcat's middle and Syme did the same to Rock.

Rock struggled hard against Syme's restraining hold, but Syme was taller, and a drummer. His heavily muscled arms did not let go. Wildcat did not struggle against Sparkle. Willow noticed that her friend was aiming her fiercest, angriest stare right at Capability's face, though.

"People are not property. Not ever," Syme said.

"We take Green back to Forest," cut in Young Timber's gentle voice. "We call them to us and we take them away. Nobody is hurt. Nobody is locked up ever again. Nobody is punished for letting Green out. All Harvester men and women put spears and knives away and go home." He ended this speech with a friendly smile towards the Harvesters.

The Harvesters looked at each other. Then they all moved several paces away from the Rats and the Wanderers. Sparkle and Syme finally let go of Rock and Wildcat, who both continued to glare after Capability.

For some time, the Harvesters argued with each other in hushed voices. Eventually, Stern Greylight turned to face the Rats and Wanderers. Capability and the other two Harvesters went away, disappearing into the shadowy space behind the stacked boxes.

"All right," Stern said, looking at Young Timber. "Catch them. Take them away with you. The Rats who let them out will be left alone."

Young Timber nodded once.

This was a game, Willow realised. The Harvesters were pretending to agree to Young Timber's terms and he was pretending to believe them. The Harvesters did not know how to get the Green back. They would surely try and recapture them again, if they knew how.

Young Timber, Syme and Sparkle, began walking towards the front doors of the warehouse. Willow followed them, with Wildcat and Rock keeping pace with her on either side. All the other Rats and Wanderers stood aside to let them past, then followed along behind.

Just outside the warehouse, Capability Reader and the other Harvesters were waiting. They must have left by a side door. At the sight of them, Willow stood frozen, afraid they would not let her go, after all. She felt Rock take hold of her elbow. He gently avoided putting pressure on her injury.

"Stern will have told them to make sure every stranger leaves the warehouse, that's all," he said under his breath.

Willow saw Capability Reader watching her with obvious annoyance, but as she finally walked past him, he made no move to stop her. As Capability's gaze fell on Rock, she thought his expression showed hatred.

"Rat," Capability snarled, locking eyes with his son. "How could you do this to me? And what about Red?"

Rock made no reply.

Without another glance at Rock's father, Willow reached across with her good arm to touch Rock's hand. He gave her a quick, bitter smile. They walked on, not looking back. Willow's legs were shorter than Rock's. She almost had to run to keep up with him.

Wildcat had managed to keep pace with them both. All three of them came to a stop when Young Timber and the others did. They were in an open space, some distance away from the warehouse.

"This is kept clear for turning harvest wagons," Rock said. "They're so big they can't change direction when they're in in the streets."

But there were no harvest wagons in sight, and no Harvesters or elders' people, either.

"We could not find our treasurebark," announced Young Timber, loudly enough for his voice to reach any hidden strangers who might be listening. "Perhaps this is the wrong warehouse, after all."

It was nearly dawn. Many of the Wanderers and Rats seemed to want to talk about what had just happened. A great deal of quiet discussion was going on, although no one was doing anything. Willow would have liked to move on, to get as far away from Capability Reader as possible, and to look for the Green. At last, she heard Young Timber instruct one of the Wanderers to run to their wagon and tell those guarding it to open the doors.

Then Willow glanced back in the direction of the warehouse. She noticed a figure sitting alone on a stone hitching post at the front. The sky overhead was growing lighter. Capability and the other Harvesters appeared to have left, so she stepped nearer for a better look.

"Rock," she called out in a low voice, "does that look like Rust Dewsinger to you?"

"You might be right," he agreed. "Yes it is. It's definitely Rust."

The two of them hurried over to where Rust sat. He looked very tired and unhappy. Willow kept looking around for more Harvesters, but it seemed Rust was alone.

"Oh, it's you," he said. He sounded surprised to see them, but he did not smile, in greeting. "So you two found each other. Well that's one good thing, at least."

"What are you doing here?" Rock demanded.

"He doesn't work for your parents anymore," Willow put in, quickly. "That's what Shim said, anyway."

Rust nodded in agreement. "Twenty summers," he said. "Twenty summers I've worked for Red." He paused, staring at Rock, then shaking his head.

"Willow, I'm so sorry," Rust continued. "I didn't find out until it was too late. He's decided to brand all his staff now. He says all the top Harvesters are going to start doing it soon. Well, I was leaving anyway. I've had enough of all of them, even Red. I didn't know where you had gone, Willow. I tried to find out. Before I told Red I was leaving, I came to the warehouse to ask questions. The elders' woman wouldn't say what had happened to you. I thought you must be in that crate she was guarding, so I pretended I had to check inside, on Capability's orders. And I saw... I saw them..."

"I was in there, in another crate, but I was rescued," Willow started to explain. Rock squeezed her arm. When she glanced at him, his look warned her not to say any more.

A moment later, they were joined by Young Timber, Syme and Sparkle.

"It's all right," Rock explained to them quietly. "Rust isn't with the others."

"I knew I had to tell someone what was going on," Rust continued, not seeming to mind the newcomers hearing what he had to say. "I went to the Rats at the Dawn Trail. Some of them know me there. I thought... well, I know they used to be violent, but they've changed a bit since the warehouse fires. After I'd told them about the Green, we came straight here. They attacked the guards and broke into the crate. It was over so fast. I couldn't stop them. Then the Green were out, and everyone in the warehouse was screaming and running. And when one of the Green took that child..."

"What?" Willow cried out.

"You said the Green had not eaten much for a long time, Willow," Sparkle put in, sounding very sad.

"If there was much fear," added Young Timber, "panic, shouting. Child may be very afraid. Not understanding, it might offer."

"What do you mean?" asked Rust.

"Green eat anything," Young Timber said. "Plants, animals, people. If offered. Will not eat if food not offered. Green can go hungry a long time. Starve if nothing offered."

Willow was about to ask what Young Timber meant by food being offered, but then he went on. "Very, very hungry Green might take child who offered, not understanding that this is not how food is given in this place."

"You mean they would eat the child?" asked Rust.

Willow shuddered, no longer very keen to know anything more about how the Green chose their food.

"Must call Green to wagon quick," said Young Timber. "Tell every plant, animal, rock, please call Green to come fast to big cart full of offered food in street by river. Where big vine grows all over three roofs."

Syme Deadlander was looking hard at Rust. "Go and find your friends from the Dawn Trail, if you can," he said. "Tell them to stay out of our way, all right?"

"Yes," Rust agreed. "I came here to look for them. Everyone scattered after what happened. But they're not here. Yes, I'll try the nearest wharf tavern. I'm so sorry." He stood up and hurried away.

Soon, the Rats and Wanderers were all setting off in different directions. Relieved to be taking action at last, Willow instantly knew what she wanted to do.

"Show me where the water pipe comes out in the roof," she said to Rock. "I think I can talk to it if I stand on the ground nearby. I won't need to climb all the way onto the roof like you did. While I'm doing that, you can talk to wharf mice and snails and whoever else is round here."

"See you later," Wildcat called out. "I'm going to work by the river."

Rock seemed equally happy to get going. He did as Willow had asked, without argument. Then, standing close to the wall near the spot he had shown her, Willow began _talking_ to her old friend the water pipe.

This time, she felt strong enough to manage without touching it directly. As she greeted the pipe, she could somehow tell that Rock was already in contact with some wharf mice. In fact, she could feel all of the other Rats and Wanderers with talents. Perhaps it was because they were all communicating at once. She had never felt anything quite like it, before. Willow looked for other plants nearby, _talking_ to every one she could find. Meanwhile, Rock, Sparkle, Wildcat, Syme, and many others, were using their talents, too.

Finally, having done as much as they could, Willow and Rock hurried through the streets, making for the Wanderers' parked wagon.

"I almost thought I felt you in the plants," she gasped as they went.

"Strange, wasn't it?" he answered, but did not comment further.

They met Wildcat and the others by the wagon. Willow twined her fingers into a bit of wallvine growing between the bricks of a building. It reassured her that the Green had heard. They were on their way.

Waiting nervously for them to arrive, Willow thought about Rust. She wondered where he was living, now that he was no longer part of Capability Reader's household.

Suddenly, two Green slipped out of the darkness together. Willow felt they were there, an instant before seeing them. Forgetting all about Rust, she stared at them in wonder.

The Green were strange and beautiful. Their mottled, naked skin and green hair showed up in the soft light of sunrise. Even half-starved, and weak from their confinement, they moved fluidly. They made her think of running wolves and climbing snakes, and fish in flowing water. They did not look dangerous, so much as different. But it was not quite impossible to imagine that they might eat a child.

"What must they be like at home in the Forest?" said Wildcat. "Oh, but you wouldn't see them, of course. Because they wouldn't show up. Everywhere's green and brown in the Forest."

The two Green approached the wagon, sniffing at it. They looked round, directly towards Willow, Rock and Wildcat. Willow tried to _talk_ to them, assuring them that the wagon was a safe place. She did her best not to think of them as child-eaters. A wave of puzzlement reached her from the Green. But then they climbed straight into the wagon, and she sensed their gratitude.

The pair of horses hitched at the front of the wagon both shook their heads. Willow saw both Rock and Wildcat tense, ready to rush forward if the horses were spooked. There was no need. The horses settled straight away. If anything, they appeared calmer than before.

After that, more Green arrived, a few at a time. Willow saw Green children being carried by adults. She became doubtful about the whole possibility of one of them having harmed a child in the warehouse. Through the open doors at the back of the wagon, she could see that the Green inside were already starting to eat the plants that had been put there for them. She recognised the woman who had first talked with her in Capability's presence.

Now, Willow understood why the Green had refused all the food provided by the Harvesters. The Green should have been given plants picked by a tree speaker. Willow had been trained from childhood never to pick a plant that did not want picking. It was something she had grown used to without thinking about it. But, when Young Timber had talked about food that offered itself, that must have been what he meant.

When Willow had talked to the Green during their capture she had not counted them. So, the only way to be certain they were all now in the wagon, was to ask them. She learned from them that one was missing. The others let her know that the very last was just a short distance away, hidden in the shadows.

It took some time for Willow to spot the Green woman hiding in the dark of a narrow gap between two buildings. She seemed unwilling to enter the wagon. At first, Willow could not tell why. Silently, she pointed the woman out to the rest of the watching Rats and Wanderers.

The Green woman was carrying something in her arms. It looked like a parcel wrapped in cloth. The only other Green carrying anything had been the ones with young children. That thought made Willow suddenly gasp aloud. Then the Green woman's burden clearly wriggled, and it made a noise. Along with many of the other watchers, Willow started forward. It was a live baby the Green woman had in her bundle.

As people moved towards her, the Green woman edged away, further into the shadows. Young Timber raised his hand, warning everyone else to stop moving. Then he gestured towards Willow, Rock and Wildcat, clearly indicating that they should be the ones to approach her.

Willow could tell that the other Green in the wagon were _talking_ to the woman, trying to prevent her from running away altogether. Very, very cautiously, Willow stepped forward. At the same time, trying to convince the woman that she meant her no harm. Holding her hands out in greeting, Willow also tried to send out feelings of concern for the child.

She could tell that Rock and Wildcat were also using their talents, but holding back, letting Willow take the lead because these Green already knew her. Yet again, it was surprising how much information she was picking up through her talent.

The woman had not moved. Some distance away from her, Willow paused, continuing to tree speak. Rock stayed at Willow's side. Only Wildcat continued to creep slowly forward. She was able to move more carefully and slowly than either of the others. Eventually, Wildcat reached out her arms.

Wildcat was close enough to take the child, but she waited, holding her hands out ready. At last, the Green woman smiled, handing over her bundle. Willow felt a sudden, sharp sense of gratitude and relief coming from her. After that, the woman let out a jumbled stream of information that it took quite a lot of work to make sense of. Finally standing aside, to let the Green woman make her way into the wagon, Willow and Rock both turned to look at the child in Wildcat's arms.

Together, all three sighed aloud with relief. Wildcat took the child over to Sparkle, who examined it carefully. Sparkle said it needed some goat's milk to drink as soon as possible, but seemed all right, otherwise.

"She didn't mean it any harm," said Wildcat. "But they're so... different. I just can't..." She fell silent.

It was Rock who finally voiced what the three close friends had all learned from the Green woman. "When the Green were let out, they ran through the warehouse with no understanding of where they were, and they were almost mad with hunger," he explained to everyone else. "They tried to find food on the benches, but the plants were from the harvest of the Forest, so nothing was offered. That woman found the child under a bench, while the workers were all panicking. The child was cold and white and still, with its eyes shut. Apparently, she couldn't feel any life in it, and it didn't seem to be breathing. It must have been so cold, or so frightened, it really seemed dead to her. But, as she carried it away, it started to warm up. As soon as she realised it was alive, she tried her best to take care of it. She would never have killed it."

After everyone had absorbed this astonishing news, Young Timber instructed the Wanderers to drive the wagon out of the city. No Harvesters or elders' people arrived to stop them. Even though the wagon was followed by a very large troupe of disguised Rats and Wanderers, all together.

TWENTY-SIX

Back at the Wanderers' camp, Willow lay in the grass near Sparkle's cart. She had been trying to catch up on her sleep, but it was no use. The camp was too noisy. Syme and his drummers were loudly exchanging ideas with the Wanderer drummers. Their complicated rhythms kept her awake.

The Green's wagon had been carefully parked some distance away from where she lay. The wagon was under the protection of a large shivering rime tree, whose leaves would make a warning noise if anyone tried to break in. The Green themselves occasionally sent out waves of gratitude that Willow could sense. She knew that Wildcat and Rock had felt it too. Presumably, so had Sparkle and Syme, and any other Rats and Wanderers who were talented. The Wanderers were preparing to move on. As soon as they were ready to leave, they would head for the Forest, taking the Green with them.

Rock, Wildcat and Naesy had gone back into the city to return the rescued child to Riverside. Naesy had not seemed at all frightened by the presence of the Green. She had taken charge of the baby, and some of her old determination had returned. She had been certain the Old Roaders would know who the baby should be taken to in Riverside.

Willow had felt too ill to go along with her friends. She ached all over. Even the insides of her eyes ached. All of her skin felt raw and hot. The pain from her burn and skin dance wound was yet another layer on top of everything else. If she had felt better, she would have liked to enter the Green's wagon to see them once more. Instead, she had simply enjoyed knowing that they were safe.

Suddenly, the rustle of a skirt hem brushing the grass near to her ear surprised her into opening her eyes.

Sparkle was standing over her, holding two clay mugs. "Redberry tea?" she asked.

"I feel terrible," Willow answered, sitting up slowly. She tried not to look too closely at the brightly coloured cloth of Sparkle's many layers of skirts.

"Of course you do. Dusk can take a long time to let go, especially if you do skin dances and rescues so soon after taking it. It leaves you weak and tired. Surely you knew that?"

Willow did not shake her head in reply, fearing it would hurt too much. "I didn't ask. I mean, when I've talked to dusk, it's answered my questions. But, now I come to think of it, there's a lot it doesn't seem to have let me know."

"That's what it's like," Sparkle agreed. "Dusk is difficult in all sorts of ways."

They sat together in silence for some time, drinking their redberry tea.

"Is Naesy all right now?" Willow asked, after a while.

"She's a lot better than she was," Sparkle answered.

"Capability will want her. He'll be planning to brand her like he did me."

"Yes." Sparkle frowned. "And the Harvesters are not going to forget about the Green. They'll capture more of them, even if they let the Wanderers leave with this lot."

"You don't think they'll let the Wanderers take them. You think they'll break their agreement with Young Timber."

"Yes. But something may still be done. Here come the others. They'll be wanting redberry, too."

Rock, Wildcat and Naesy arrived, having returned from Riverside already. Wildcat explained that news of the presence of the Green in the warehouse was all over Riverside, and would soon reach the news-sheets.

Then she told how the Old Roaders had gladly taken in the rescued child. They had heard all about the Green supposedly having eaten it, and knew whose child it was. They also knew how such a small child had ended up in a warehouse in the first place. Apparently, a warehouse worker had taken her son with her to work. Since this was against the rules, she had hidden him under a bench. When the escaped Green ran through the warehouse, the woman had not been close enough to the child to reach him straight away. Then she had been knocked to the ground in the rush to escape. By the time she had managed to return to her bench, the Green had already searched it for food. They had left all the plants alone, but taken her son.

"The Old Roaders said the woman was pulling out clumps of her own hair when she realised what had happened." Naesy spoke up, adding to Wildcat's description of what they had found out. "They said the boy's father was his usual carer. But he died, the night before last – Riverside sickness."

In spite of the terrible circumstances of the trip to Riverside, Willow thought Naesy sounded much more like her old self again. Even mentioning the same illness that had killed Carlina had not caused her to retreat into misery.

"Did the other workers not know there was a child under their bench? Were they all too scared of breaking the rules to help that poor child's mother?" asked Sparkle, sounding very angry. She went over to her cooking fire, returning shortly afterwards with three more mugs of redberry tea.

"So where will you be going next, Willow?" she asked as she handed out the mugs, suddenly appearing to have calmed down.

Taken completely by surprise by this change of subject, Willow was not sure what to say.

"You would be very welcome to come and live with us at the Bees' Nest," Sparkle went on. "Naesy will join us, I think. And Wildcat's happy there. The Harvesters may want you, but they can't have you. Plenty of the Rats will enjoy the excuse to stand up to them and keep the three of you safe."

Naesy said nothing to contradict Sparkle's statement about herself. But Willow noticed Wildcat looking suddenly uncomfortable.

"Actually, Sparkle," Wildcat said, "I've been thinking about travelling with the Wanderers. I'm going to ask Old Timber if I can help look after the Green. I always did plan to try and reach the Forest after I'd been to the city." She stretched her legs out in front of her on the grass. The hems of her trousers were dusty, and covered in burrs and grass-seeds.

"Have you been talking to the Green already?" Willow asked her.

"Yes," Wildcat admitted. "You were asleep. I thought they might be afraid, so I asked Young Timber to let me go in there. I even played with some of the children."

Sparkle laughed. "So you're going to see the Green back to the Forest, are you?" She seemed not to mind at all. "And you'll learn from them on the way. Listen well. The Forest isn't a friendly place, even for you."

"Are you sure...?" Willow started to ask her friend. Then she stopped herself. It was obvious from Wildcat's shining eyes as she talked about the Green that nothing would prevent her from going to the Forest with them. "But we only just met up again," she finished, feeling sad.

"Well, you could come too," suggested Wildcat. "We both came here to help tell city people why the harvest of the Forest is wrong, but they don't want to know, do they? I say it's time for a new plan."

"Oh-ho," Naesy commented, suddenly.

Willow had never told her the real reason she and Rock had come to the city. She hurriedly sent Naesy a look of apology.

"No, Wildcat," Willow said aloud. "I'll miss you a lot, but I will stay at the Bees' Nest. I still want to help Riversiders to use their talents."

She glanced sideways at Rock, wondering if he would stay with her. He was looking down into his mug of tea, so she could not see his expression. Instead, it was Sparkle whose gaze met her own.

"Rock, will you stay at the Bees' Nest?" Sparkle asked.

At last, he raised his head. "I tried to help and I just made it all worse," he said, finally looking at Willow directly. "Why don't I take you back to Warner?"

"No," she replied, without hesitating at all. "We have to help show the Riversiders they can live without coin."

"I wish you luck," Naesy interrupted her. "I really do, but the elders run the city. Nobody can change that. And the elders like coin – lots of coin."

Rock said nothing. Willow hoped he would stay with her at the Bees' Nest. Though, perhaps he would not settle. He might choose to hide from his parents again. Getting to her feet, she carried her empty mug to the stream beyond the camp to wash it, feeling the need for a few moments by herself. The burdock plants growing on the stream bank were so large, she was able to dry the mug on a leaf without even needing to pick one. She stayed there for a while, enjoying the quiet of the stream bank. Then, after thanking the burdock plant, she headed back towards the camp.

Before reaching it, she heard angry-sounding shouts coming from somewhere beyond Sparkle's cart. Then she saw Rock hurrying towards her. He was waving at her to go back, away from the camp. Close behind him came Syme, Wildcat and Naesy. Syme had an arm around Naesy's shoulder, guiding her forward.

Rock reached Willow first. "Some Harvesters are here," he said, keeping his voice low. "Lots of them. Young Timber's organising the Wanderers. Syme wants all four of us to stay hidden in case the Harvesters are looking for us."

"Will the Wanderers fight them?" Willow asked.

"Only in self-defence. And they won't fight with knives or spears. But they'll do almost anything to protect the Green."

"You four have got to keep well away from any trouble," Syme added, as he and the two girls caught up. "Follow me."

Dropping his arm from Naesy, he led the way towards the stream. As they went, Willow saw that Naesy kept glancing back over her shoulder.

"Gutter-crawling slime-pissers!" Rock grumbled. "I knew they wouldn't leave us alone."

"Quiet!" snapped Syme, under his breath. "No talking."

Further along the stream bank was a coppice, where they made their way into the thickest patch of undergrowth Syme could find. Wildcat slid through the trees without making any noise at all. Willow had less skill than her friend, but was still pretty good at moving quietly through woodland. So were Rock and Syme. But Naesy seemed to make no effort at all to avoid cracking sticks, and scuffing leaves with her feet, and crying out when nettles stung her arms.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Syme had come to a stop. Willow stood behind him, trying to catch her breath without making a sound. They were in a tangle of brambles beneath the trees, well hidden inside the coppice.

Willow still carried the mug belonging to Sparkle. She laid it carefully below an arch of brambles, thinking she would pick it up again later. Rock and Wildcat were standing beside her. Just behind them, Naesy decided to sit down underneath the canopy of nettles and brambles.

Suddenly, Willow thought she heard footsteps rustling through leaf litter, not far away. Looking through a gap in the dense undergrowth, she tried to see who was out there. There was a small clearing some distance away. Syme had chosen a hiding place that had a good view of the most likely spot for any pursuers to come to.

When two figures stepped into the clearing, Willow recognised them at once as Red Dawnweaver and Shim Dealer. Shim wore a leather jacket just like Caul Driver's. He held a large knife unsheathed in his hand.

Biting her lip to stop herself swearing aloud, Willow looked at each of her companions in turn. By exchanging glances with Rock, Wildcat and Syme, she confirmed that they were also aware of the two Harvesters. Naesy was probably unable to see out from under the nettles.

"We know you're here," Shim called out, just then, looking straight towards their hiding place.

Willow was sure that he could not actually see her, or the others. He probably did not really know anyone was there at all. Not unless he and Red had been close by when Naesy had made so much noise entering the coppice.

"If you don't want to come out, I can come in after you," Shim went on. "And we can always call for help. There are elders' people in the camp."

The sound of his voice was menacing, in a way that Willow had never heard from Shim before. She saw Syme quietly take his belt knife out of its sheath. Then Rock and Wildcat did the same. Willow could not copy them. Her own belt knife was in her travelling pack, left behind at Capability Reader's house. She had no idea how to use it as a weapon anyway, even in self-defence. It was just for cutting roots and twine.

She felt Wildcat lightly touch her hand. As Willow looked towards her, Wildcat mouthed the words, _'stay here'_ , without actually speaking. Then Wildcat turned to Rock and Syme, repeating the message to them.

Willow thought she understood what her friend planned to do. If Wildcat gave herself up, the two Harvesters might believe she was alone. Shim only knew Wildcat as Willow's friend, and Red had never met her. They could not know that she was an animal talker.

Soon, Wildcat was sliding between the nettle stems, never once catching a foot on a bramble. Her knife was in the hand of her good arm, not the one with the healing skin dance wound. If she was in any pain at all, it did not seem to bother her. Willow saw her leap gracefully out of the undergrowth and into the clearing. She landed steadily, holding her knife in front, and keeping the nettles and brambles at her back.

Shim must have been surprised, but he did not show it. Red took several steps away from the stranger.

"Hello, Harvester lady," Wildcat said. "That's a very smart dress to be wearing in a wood."

Taking another step towards Red, Wildcat looked as if she was ignoring Shim on purpose.

Willow heard a movement behind her. Glancing back, she saw that Naesy was trying to stand up. Syme moved very fast through the undergrowth without making a sound, tucking his knife back into its belt sheath as he went. Then he pushed Naesy back into a sitting position, holding a hand over her mouth. He did not let her go until she had nodded vigorously, to show that she was not going to speak.

Meanwhile, Red seemed to have recovered from being surprised by Wildcat. "I understood the Wanderers refuse to fight with knives," she said. "So you must be a Rat. There are some elders' people on business near here. They are armed. It would be a good idea if you put that knife away."

As Willow looked on, Shim began stealthily moving out of Wildcat's line of sight, one pace at a time. If Wildcat noticed this, she did not react.

"You must be Red Dawnweaver. I suppose you've come for the Green," Wildcat accused Red, perhaps too angry to remember to keep an eye on Shim.

"I think you're confusing me with my living-partner, Capability Reader. I am looking for my son."

Wondering why Red would admit this to someone she had only just met, Willow realised that Wildcat's plan might never work. Red and Shim might already know about the others hiding nearby. Red might actually want her words to be overheard by Rock. Before Willow could decide what to do next, Shim took one sudden leap forward. In the same movement, he placed his knife right against Wildcat's throat. It happened too fast for the marsh girl to use her own knife to stop him.

In spite of the distance between herself and Wildcat, Willow could see the look of surprise in her friend's eyes. Wildcat's red hair flicked into Shim's face as she jerked her head back away from the blade. By then, he had caught her in a secure hold. Perhaps he had been taught fighting skills during his mysterious duties for Capability Reader.

"Drop it," he said.

Wildcat opened her outstretched hand, letting her knife fall to the ground.

As Willow trembled for Wildcat, she also noticed that Syme was moving silently away from Naesy, and towards the Harvesters, his own knife in his hand, once more. Rock looked too stunned to do anything.

"I wonder how you know my name, girl," Red commented, glaring at Wildcat. "Do you know my son?" Then, without waiting for an answer, she addressed Shim. "Let's take her back to the camp. She might help us to find Jen. Or she might even lead us to Naesy."

At this, Willow heard a ripping noise coming from behind her. Still trying to remain hidden, she twisted round to look. Naesy was standing up. There was a tear in her trousers where they had caught on a bramble.

"I'm here Red!" Naesy called out, before anyone else could stop her. "Your son's with me, and Willow, and one of the Rats."

Willow felt like cursing her. Syme did utter a curse, although it was probably aimed more at himself than at Naesy. If he had stayed beside her, he might have been able to keep her quiet.

"They had better all come with us, then," Red answered, sounding completely calm and unsurprised. "If they don't, I might tell Shim to slit this little Rat's throat. And if they've got any weapons, they had better leave them behind."

Syme stuck his knife into a coppiced hazel stump and Rock copied him. Willow looked at Rock closely, but he would not look back at her. Instead, he was staring at Shim, as if he could kill the young Harvester using only his eyes.

Inside her head, Willow was cursing Naesy and Shim, and all the Harvesters, to a lifetime in the slime at the bottom of the marshes, being eaten alive by bog worms. Following Syme and Rock, she made her way out of the shelter of the undergrowth and into the clearing. There, she stood facing Shim and Red.

"Hello again Willow," Shim greeted her. "So you're still messing about with Rats and drummers. And this is Jen Dawnweaver, is it? Well, now we're all going to the camp. You can all walk ahead of us. Red and Naesy will walk behind me. And my knife won't move from your friend's throat the whole time. If Red gives an instruction, you'd better follow it quick."

As she moved to stand between Rock and Syme, Willow noticed the edge of a bandage around Shim's wrist. The sleeve of his jacket had been forced up where he held his arm around Wildcat's waist. If Shim had been recently branded, he was probably in a lot of pain. He seemed to be hiding it well.

"Is that Shim Dealer? The one that tricked you when my father told him to?" Rock whispered once, as they began walking.

"Yes," Willow replied, hoping Rock's anger wouldn't cause him to do anything that would put Wildcat in more danger.

"Huh," was his only comment.

Willow looked across at Syme, just in time to see the warning glance he sent in Rock's direction.

Back at the camp, there were several other Harvesters standing in front of the wagon housing the Green. As Red had promised, there were a lot of armed elders' people with them, although Caul Driver was not there. Willow soon spotted Stern Greylight, who seemed to be in charge. Standing right beside him was Capability Reader.

As she got closer, Willow could see that none of the Harvesters, or the elders' people, had so far managed to reach the Green. Wanderers surrounded the wagon, standing three or four deep. There were Wanderers sitting on the wagon roof, half-hidden by the leaves of the tree above. And there were Wanderers crouched under the wagon, peering out from behind the wheels. Some wore furs and leather, and some wore cloth. Some had feathers, and even animal bones, in their hair, or on their clothing, as well as beads and other trinkets. Every one of them looked tense and very serious, as if nothing short of death would prevent them from guarding the Green. Yet, none of them seemed to be carrying a weapon of any kind, not even a hunting knife.

Approaching Capability Reader once more, made Willow feel sick and dizzy. She tried her best to make herself angry instead of afraid, telling herself he was only a stupid man who thought he could turn living things into coin. But it did not really work. She was still terrified.

Capability gave a slow smile when he noticed Red's arrival, preceded by Shim and his captives.

"I've got what I came for, Capability," Red called out. "Hurry up and sort out your business before Shim's hand slips and he kills this girl. It'll be your fault if he does it by accident. I told you he shouldn't work until his brand is healed."

"If he's worth my brand, he won't kill anyone until I tell him to," answered Capability.

He nodded to a woman standing nearby, who gestured to some of the elders' people. Willow hardly had time to draw a breath before she felt her hands pulled roughly behind her back. Looking down, she was not surprised to see the tip of a knife pointing towards her ribs.

"Stand very still and don't speak," said a voice that was horribly familiar. Willow was certain it belonged to one of the women who had guarded her crate in the warehouse.

Raising her head slowly, Willow saw that Rock and Syme were also being held at knifepoint. Her legs had begun to tremble uncontrollably. She worried that her knees might give way.

"Would you really let them knife me?" Rock asked, addressing his father. "If not, then they may as well let go. And if you kill Willow, then I will kill myself."

This statement surprised Willow a great deal. She wondered if he really meant it. It might only be a clever strategy to get her released, even if there was no way of doing the same for Wildcat.

After a long pause, Capability gave in. "Let them all go, except the red haired girl," he said. Willow saw that he was not even looking at Rock, but at Shim and Wildcat. "Keep hold of her, boy," he addressed Shim. "I want to find out if you're worth my mark."

Then, turning to the Wanderers surrounding the wagon, Capability shouted, "We want to see inside that wagon! You will all get out of the way or my boy will slit this little girl's throat!"

There was a long moment of silence. Willow thought even some of the elders' people looked shocked by Capability's threat. She felt chilled, as if a sudden cold wind had touched her skin. And she wondered if Shim was truly willing to do as he was told, this time.

Slowly, all the Wanderers on top of the wagon began climbing down. As they moved away, they were joined by those who had been underneath. Finally, those standing in front of the wagon moved to the side, allowing the Harvesters a narrow route towards the steps up to the wagon door.

"Shim, you go in first, and you take the little girl with you," instructed Capability. "Willow and Jen Dawnweaver, you will go in next. You'll all stay there while we sort out how to get that wagon back to the warehouse. If any one of you even thinks of disobeying me, the red haired girl will die."

TWENTY-EIGHT

The woman holding Willow lowered her knife and stepped back. Willow turned to look at Rock. He stared straight into her eyes. Although he said nothing, she could tell he was just as determined as the Wanderers had been, to risk his own safety for the Green.

Even if Red Dawnweaver had been telling the truth about coming here to look for her son, she now seemed happy for Capability to make use of him in his own way. Willow already knew Red was a good liar. For one thing, it now seemed clear that Rock's mother had always believed in the talents, in secret.

Shim dragged Wildcat past the silent Wanderers, then up the steps to the wagon door. Following close behind with Rock, Willow felt as if she could hardly force one foot in front of the other. Fear threatened to freeze her feet to the ground. Yet, she had to help the Green, and she did not intend to leave Wildcat alone with Shim.

Wildcat did not stumble as she climbed the steps to the wagon. Shim had to force the wagon door open with his shoulder. There was a sound of splintering wood as he shoved heavily at the latch, which gave way easily. A strand of Wildcat's red hair fell across the shoulder of Shim's jacket as he pushed her in through the doorway.

Stepping up after them, Willow could now see the Green. They were all huddled at the far end of the wagon, looking at the intruders with wide eyes. Shim moved to rest his back against a side wall, then slid down. He pulled Wildcat along with him, ending up sitting with her in front.

"Shim, do you really want to do this?" Willow asked him, trying keep her voice as calm as possible. "Don't you care that Red and Capability lied to you when they said the talents don't exist. How can you trust them?"

"That brand must hurt something fierce," Wildcat joined in. "The Green could soothe it for you, you know."

"Shut up!" he snapped.

He was resting his knife hand against Wildcat's shoulder. Willow saw him press the tip of the blade harder against the skin of her friend's neck.

Once Willow and Rock were also inside the wagon, Capability Reader stuck his head through the door, but he did not come any further. Willow could see that Red and Naesy had stepped up behind him and they were trying to look in, as well. Behind them were the other Harvesters.

"Naesy," Willow called out, "What do you think you're doing? Why do you want to go back to Red? Think about the Bees' Nest."

"No, Willow. It's all right," Naesy answered, to Willow's frustration. "Red's going to treat me as her daughter. Iris and Jaren and Enimet will be safe enough at the Bees' Nest. Red's going to buy me dresses and jewels. She says she'll take me to all the best entertainments."

Just as the Rats had suspected, it seemed that Naesy still wanted to trust the Harvesters.

"But you could stay with Iris and your brothers. Capability will have you branded," Willow answered desperately.

"Nothing wrong with that," Shim interrupted. "It's not as painful as that silly version of a skin dance must have been."

The cuff of Willow's blouse had slid up her arm during the guard's rough treatment, taking the edge of her bandage with it. Her wound now showed clearly.

"The skin dance is for giving. The pain is chosen," Rock said. "My father gives nothing, he just takes whatever he wants."

Willow looked hard at Rock, trying to tell him with her eyes that she would rather die than go back into the city with his father. Rock looked quickly down at his feet. At first she thought he was rejecting her attempt to reach him. Then, as he looked up again, she realised he was trying to communicate something else. Concentrating on trying to understand him, she suddenly felt that all the plants inside the wagon wanted to talk to her.

Looking around in confusion, she saw that the Green were busily covering themselves with leaves and twigs. Their eyes showed large and dark in the dim light. They were no longer giving off the feeling of despair that Willow had sensed from them in the warehouse. She could tell they were much stronger, now they had been offered food and freedom.

Suddenly, Rock sank down into the plants spread on the floor as if he was too overcome to stand up. Yet, the expression in his eyes when he looked at Willow, indicated otherwise. She copied him, sitting down and putting her head in one hand. Letting her other hand fall into the plants, she began to tree speak as hard as she could.

Instead of hearing the plants, she heard Rock clearly in her head, although not in words. Trying not to show the surprise she felt, in case Shim noticed, she concentrated on _listening_. Rock's thoughts had a voice she could recognise without using her ears. It was almost like tree speaking, but even easier. From Rock, she learned that this was something caused by the presence of the Green.

Once Willow understood what was happening, she was also able to pick up a little from the thoughts of the Green, and even from some of the Wanderers outside the wagon.

Suddenly, a very clear thought came into her head that she recognised as Wildcat's. She still had no idea how it was that she could tell. The thought was directed at all who could hear, and it was firmly insisting that Wildcat was ready to do absolutely anything necessary to prevent the Harvesters from capturing the Green again.

At this, Willow could not help lifting her head to look at her friend. Wildcat stared back, appearing very strong and determined. Willow thought that Shim's knife hand was shaking, but his expression gave nothing away.

Without speaking aloud, Wildcat told Willow to be ready to go to the Green, because a branch was about to fall from a tree. It seemed an odd thing to think at such a time. Willow assumed she had misunderstood Wildcat. Then she _heard_ the shimmering rime tree above the wagon reinforcing the same message. At the same time, Syme Deadlander was shouting something aloud, outside the wagon. His voice was not a thought, but a sound in Willow's ears.

Suddenly, there was a terrifying ripping, splitting noise. Willow saw Wildcat get to her feet, surging upwards out of Shim's grip. Shim's knife sliced downwards, just as Wildcat broke free.

Willow tried to go towards her friend, but felt something holding her back. Struggling, she realised that Rock was guiding her towards the Green, his arms around her waist. When he let go, she found herself enfolded in a mass of warm, green and brown bodies, that smelled of plants and fungi.

Looking back, Willow saw Wildcat falling, her hair stained at the ends with fresh blood. Holding out her arms to catch her, Willow could hear a tearing, rushing sound going on and on all around them.

The whole wagon rocked and shook. Willow was cushioned by the bodies of the Green all around, and by Wildcat in front and Rock behind. The floor continued lurching and shuddering for some time. She saw splintered timbers falling. Part of the tree above came crashing through the end of the wagon roof nearest the door.

The cut plants that the Green had used to cover themselves gave some protection from the worst of the dust that followed. Willow held on tightly to Wildcat, as splinters of wood continued to fall.

After what seemed like a very long time, Young Timber's voice rang out clearly from somewhere outside the wagon. "This we do to keep you away from them. You see it. You will not take the Green. Go away."

Willow heard no reply from any of the Harvesters.

The Green around Willow began to uncurl themselves and sit up. She felt herself gently manoeuvred upright. Settling onto the floor of what remained of the wagon, she opened her eyes, blinked and coughed.

"Wildcat! Wildcat!" she called out, staring down at the top of Wildcat's head.

Under Wildcat's body, Willow's blouse felt wet. Bright sunlight was now coming through the hole in the roof. She could see a trickle of Wildcat's blood running onto her own sleeve, and was too shocked to think what to do. Brown arms, furred with green, reached out at her. The Green were trying to take Wildcat away. Willow tried to cling on, but green-brown hands took hold of her wrists.

"Let them take her, Willow." Rock's voice came from somewhere behind her. "Let them see if they can help."

"How can they help? Shim Dealer's cut her throat." She heard her own voice sobbing, and could not stop herself.

"No," Rock insisted. "Shim was very weak. He was already losing his grip. Wildcat's bleeding a lot, but she's alive."

"How would you know?" Willow replied. But she stopped struggling against the Green as they took Wildcat away. Rock was right. Willow could still sense Wildcat, in the same way she could feel a leafless plant in winter.

Feeling dazed, Willow looked on as a group of the Green surrounded Wildcat. The Green were making clucking and hissing sounds, and passing various leaves from hand to hand.

One of the Green children wriggled over to Willow. A moment later, it took hold of the wrist of her branded arm. Slowly and gently, it began to lick Wildcat's blood from her skin.

TWENTY- NINE

Rock soon began to clamber through the damaged wagon. Once he was closer to the broken end, Willow heard him calling to the Wanderers outside. She stayed where she was, watching the Green as they cared for Wildcat.

Some of them seemed to be licking at the knife wound. Others were weaving what looked like little bandages out of tiny strips of leaves. As far as Willow could tell, the wound was not a slice through the throat as she had thought at first. It was a ragged cut in Wildcat's shoulder, on the opposite side to her skin dance scar. If the Green could stop the bleeding and keep the wound clean, Wildcat would live. But it might take considerable skill to make sure that she would still have full use of her arm after it healed. Back in Warner, Willow had seen her mother and grandmother treat similar injuries. But those wounds had been caused by accidents with farming equipment, rather than deliberate knifings.

Cursing herself for not staying calm when Wildcat had fallen towards her, Willow felt ashamed. She should have checked to see if her friend was breathing, then tried to stop the flow of blood from the wound, instead of assuming Wildcat was already dead.

"Willow!" Rock's shout interrupted her thoughts. He was no longer talking only in her head. There was no need to avoid speaking aloud. "Syme wants us to talk to the bits of the tree that are still alive. The Wanderers' plan went wrong. They asked the tree to let go of a rotten branch that was going to fall soon anyway. It was only meant to land on the roof and hang down over the door, to stop the Harvesters getting in. But it accidentally brought a live branch down with it. If we're going to get out of here without tipping the wagon over, we'll need the tree's help. It can still feel where the fallen branches are going to shift, but it needs us to describe the inside of the wagon. The Green don't normally use wagons so they don't understand enough to help."

Standing up carefully, Willow allowed herself one last look at Wildcat and the Green. Then she edged her way down the slope towards the other end of the wagon, where the door had been.

"Where are all the Harvesters?" she muttered to herself crossly. She had almost hoped to look out on their shattered bodies. Instead, she could not see out at all.

Rock overheard her. "Warned just in time," he said. "The Wanderers wouldn't ask a tree to kill anyone on purpose. I saw Shim go out of the door just after Wildcat jumped for the Green. Try not to think about them. We've got to get out of here. I can't tree speak well enough. You've got to help."

There was a suggestion of fear in his voice. Determined not to panic again, Willow made herself breathe slowly. She climbed through broken wagon slats, twigs and scattered leaves. Soon, her way was blocked by a thin branch of shivering rime still attached to a much larger one. She laid her hands on it and began to tree speak.

Shivering rime leaves had silver hairs covering their upper surfaces. In summer sunlight, the leaves shone like winter frost. When moved by the wind, they glittered, and their smooth undersides knocked together making musical noises. Tree speaking as she had been taught, Willow first told the tree how beautiful it was to her, showing her respect for it. Then she thanked it for trying to scare the Harvesters. Finally, she _listened_ to what the tree wanted to tell her.

She learned from the tree that it had warned the Green and the Wanderers about its dead branch which would soon fall. Then, together, they had agreed that if the tree could let the branch go at the right moment, it could be used to defend the Green against the Harvesters, if necessary. The original plan had been to let the Harvesters climb up towards the wagon door, just as the dead branch was about to go. If the plan had worked, first the Green would have taken cover, then Young Timber would have shouted aloud at the tree. To the Harvesters, it would have seemed that he had caused the branch to fall. It had been hoped this would scare the Harvesters away without harming anyone.

When the Harvesters had first turned up, the tree, the Green and the Wanderers had been ready to put the plan into action. But things had started to go wrong when Shim arrived with Wildcat. Everyone had feared that the sudden shock of the falling branch would cause Shim to use his knife.

Wildcat must have realised very quickly how the Green and the Wanderers were secretly communicating. Or, perhaps she had already learned about it on her earlier visit to the Green. Either way, the shivering rime tree was clear that Wildcat had insisted the plan must go ahead, in spite of the risk to herself.

Once the tree had let go of its last remaining connection to its dead branch, the branch had started to fall. A live branch underneath had been expected to slow it, guiding it towards the wagon door. Instead, the live branch had bent awkwardly under the impact and snapped. The tree assured Willow that it would easily recover from this, telling her its sap was strong and it had many more leafy branches.

Aware that Rock had come to stand beside her, Willow saw him lay his hands next to hers on the branch. She could not _hear_ his thoughts anymore, no matter how hard she tried. Perhaps the Green needed to concentrate when they made such things happen, and now they were all busy with Wildcat.

Rock's presence reminded Willow that her task was urgent. She asked the tree about the location of its broken branches. Its reply was worrying. The fallen branches were still unstable. Some parts of them were very heavy indeed. Since the wagon that was between the branches and the ground was now badly damaged, sooner or later the branches would slide further down, crushing everything underneath them.

"I think we'll have to go under that bit of dead wood there," she said aloud to Rock, pointing to it. "The tree says that bit's the most steady. There's a hole in the floor we can drop out through. The door and the holes in the wall are too unstable."

"All right," Rock agreed. "You found out much more than I did, then. All I really understood was that some branches are dead and some are still living, but the living ones talk like they're still part of the tree. And somehow the tree can tell where its fallen branches are, even though they've broken off the trunk. We'll go out whichever way you think is best, but that hole's near a wheel and the wheel's smashed. Someone outside will have to brace the wagon floor before we climb through. Otherwise the floor might collapse and squash us on our way out."

"Yes. Tell Syme," Willow agreed. "And tell him we'll send the Green out first, with Wildcat. Then you go. I'll come last, so I can keep tree speaking and shout if any of the branches start to move."

The escape went very slowly. Tools were gently passed into the wagon so that Willow and Rock could widen the exit hole. Outside, the Wanderers and the Rats braced the floor and the broken wheel using some of the Wanderers' tent poles.

When all was ready, the Green brought Wildcat carefully over to the escape hole. They had stopped her wound from bleeding by threading their leaf bandages into her flesh, like stitchbark through a skin dance wound. Willow had seen Rinnet use stitchbark to hold wounds together, but it had to be pulled out before the wound fully healed. She wondered whether the Green's delicate leaf weavings might be thin enough to disintegrate as the flesh healed.

Wildcat remained unconscious. Willow thought the Green might somehow be responsible for that, as well. They all seemed to be quietly singing to Wildcat as they lifted her gently through the hole in the floor.

Once all the Green had climbed down, Rock lowered himself through the hole.

"Come on then, Willow," he called back.

Willow patted the tree, in thanks. As she did so, a familiar voice, very large and very slow, called from very far away.

She was exhausted and disorientated. Some part of her mind that could still think half-clearly, knew that she was badly shocked. Her hands, still resting on the tree, had begun to shake. She could feel sweat cooling on her skin. And now, the Forest was speaking.

Anyone with a talent heard the Forest all the time. To Willow, its voice usually seemed distant, almost as if the plants and animals close to her were relaying a message. Now, it was loud and direct. It was so filled with life that it seemed to vibrate with changing patterns of feeling and intention.

Once before, in the marshes, Willow had felt the Forest calling to her strongly. That was when she had decided to come to the Spice City. This time, the message was even louder and more detailed. It told of the holes in the Forest where the Harvesters had removed all the trees, together with all the layers of plants that had grown below their canopy. And all the animals, the soil, even rocks. The Forest was very big and the Harvesters' holes were small, but the number of holes was growing. The Forest told Willow, most forcefully, that the Harvesters must stop soon, or it would not be able to recover from the wounds.

In her weakened state, and still close to the Green with their strange effects on the talents, Willow knew she must be more than usually receptive to its voice. The Forest was enormous, made up of rocks and soil and plants and animals and insects, too many for anyone to count. And the Green were a part of the Forest. They would die along with it, harvested like everything else. Willow had assumed the city was where the Harvesters could be stopped, because that was where the Harvesters lived. But the very worst of their damage was still happening elsewhere.

Suddenly, the sound of Rock's voice reached Willow's ears past the sensations in her mind. Slowly altering the focus of her concentration, she realised he was yelling at her, sounding desperate.

"Willow!" He was right underneath the hole in the broken floor. "Will you come out of there! I can't get back in again and Syme says they can't hold that broken wheel up any longer!"

Clambering across the wagon, Willow began to lower her feet out of the hole, ready to drop down. Rock grabbed her around the waist before her feet had even touched the ground.

He began running, still carrying her. Grasping the fabric of his shirt to try and steady herself, she could see Syme Deadlander and two other Rats keeping pace with them.

Rock set her down on her feet a short distance from the wagon. At last, Willow was able to look back. She was aware of a crowd of people around her. Everyone was looking at the wagon.

There was a long groaning sound. Then more splintering noises. The largest of the broken branches slid sideways onto the ground. The planks bracing the underside of the wagon splintered under the weight and it collapsed in a shower of splinters, falling leaves and dust.

Suddenly, Rock was hugging Willow very tightly again. Then, as she lifted her head to try and speak, he kissed her on the mouth. Afterwards, he let her go quickly, as if embarrassed at what he had done. His face was smeared with dirt and blood.

Wanderers and Rats surrounded them, but Willow could not see any Harvesters or elders' people. Neither was there any sign of Naesy or Wildcat, or Sparkle, or any of the Green.

Syme Deadlander caught Willow's eye. "All safe," he said, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Sparkle and the Wanderer healers have your friend in a wagon. The Green are hiding by the stream. They can be very hard to see when they don't want to be noticed. But Naesy went away with the Harvesters."

Rock remained by Willow's side, carefully no longer touching her.

"What were you doing in there?" he asked.

"I heard the Forest."

"We all hear the Forest..." he started to argue.

Syme interrupted him. "Save it for later, boy. Right now, we should help the Wanderers get another wagon ready for the Green. They want to start moving at first light tomorrow." He turned to Willow. "You look like you've been slaughtering pigs without an apron."

"Wildcat..." she started to say.

Young Timber was nearby. "Wild girl will travel in the wagon of our best healer, Innamarrit – name means Ice River. Wild Girl will speak with Green," he assured her.

Willow stepped closer to Rock and took his hand, smiling in relief. Then she found herself looking towards the city beyond the Wanderers' camp, thinking of Capability Reader, Shim and Red.

THIRTY

Young Timber must have guessed who Willow was thinking about.

"Grey hair Harvester got knocked on head. Knife boy fainted," he said to her. "Woman with black beads made all go home again. She took girl, your friend."

"Naesy's not my friend anymore," Willow replied.

"And my parents won't give up," Rock commented. "They'll come back."

"Yes," agreed Young Timber.

As the three of them all looked towards the city, he added, "Someone comes now."

The track leading out of the city and around the edge of the Wanderers' camp was partly hidden by trees. At first, Willow could not see anyone approaching. She did notice that several Rats and Wanderers were quietly gathering in front of the shattered wagon.

Returning her attention to the track, she was finally able to see a group of people moving through the shadows of the trees. Young Timber walked forward to meet them. As soon as Willow could make out who was at the head of the group, she gripped Rock's hand tightly. It was Capability Reader. He was closely followed by Stern Greylight and a large number of elders' people, this time including Caul Driver. At least there was no sign of Red Dawnweaver or Shim Dealer.

No one spoke as the Harvesters came to a stop in front of Young Timber. If Capability was relieved to see that his son had escaped from the broken wagon, he kept it to himself.

Then Old Timber stepped forward to confront the Harvesters. Other Wanderers silently moved aside to let him through.

"You will not take Green back," said Old Timber. "You saw tree fall. We take Green to Forest as agreed."

"That was just an accident," Capability answered. "Those green animals are our property. Be sensible. These elders' people are armed. We will take the Green back. Where are they?"

"Not animals. Not property," insisted Old Timber. His voice remained calm, but firm.

Then Willow thought that something in the trees beyond the camp had caught his attention. He seemed distracted for an instant. She saw him glance that way and smile. It could not have been the Green. They were hiding near the stream, in the other direction. Old Timber's gaze returned to the Harvesters and his expression grew serious once more.

Stern Greylight signalled to the elders' people standing behind him. As he did so, Willow noticed Capability Reader turn and nod to Caul Driver. Stern opened his mouth to speak.

Before Stern could begin, Old Timber turned and waved, in the direction he had glanced before. As Willow looked to see who was there, she realised all the Rats and Wanderers were doing the same thing. Even Rock seemed to be ignoring the Harvesters, just at that moment. No longer having an audience, Stern was forced to shut his mouth and wait.

It turned out that what everyone had paused to look at, was an old man. He emerged from the trees to begin making his way through the Wanderers' camp, limping, and leaning heavily on a walking stick. When he noticed so many people staring at him, the old man gave a loud cackling laugh. Willow recognised him then. Yet, she could hardly believe what she was seeing.

"Wanderers do not know you, but plants and Green like you," Old Timber addressed the new arrival. "I feel that from them. You are welcome here."

"I'm no tree speaker, boy," the man replied. He sounded grumpy.

Several people laughed at hearing one old man calling another one 'boy'.

"Goshi!" Rock burst out, sounding absolutely astounded.

He let go of Willow's hand and they both rushed forward.

For the moment, Capability Reader and Stern Greylight were no longer of interest to anyone. And Willow noticed the two of them both seemed to be frozen with surprise. Caul Driver and the rest of the elders' people stayed put, and Stern gave them no further instructions.

Goshi looked very pleased with himself, indeed. Willow had no idea why the old man had suddenly turned up just outside the Spice City. But she was certainly very grateful for the effect he was having on the Harvesters. As far as she knew, Goshi normally spent all his time in his horrible grey house on Screed Hill above Warner. He had gout. She would never have thought him capable of walking as far as the city. He had always claimed his feet hurt too much even to get down Screed Hill.

Coming to a stop in front of everyone, Goshi laid both hands on the top of his walking stick. After a long look at Capability, and an even longer one at Stern Greylight, he turned sideways to face Willow and Rock.

"Eh! Eh!" gasped the old man, as if he could hardly talk for laughing at them all. "What a welcome, after I've walked further than I ever thought these poor feet would carry me. You young'uns look a bit of a mess."

Smiling, Willow reached out to grasp Rock's hand once more. Suddenly, she was very aware of how she must look, still covered in mud and leaves and Wildcat's blood.

"We've been... there's been an accident Goshi, but it's over now. All's well." She hoped that perhaps her words were true. Goshi's arrival certainly seemed to have caused the Harvesters to hold back from whatever they had intended to do next.

"Goshi?" cried Rock. "Really? Have you really walked all the way here from Warner? What made you leave your house and stop moaning long enough to reach the city?"

"Seems I couldn't leave it all to you young'uns, after all. I got word from Syme you'd gone missing and the girl was living in a nest of Harvesters. Have you been in a fight, girl?" Goshi seemed to be studying Willow closely. "I told your mother to stop worrying, but maybe she was right, after all."

"Did Rinnet come with you?" Willow asked.

"No, no, Rinnet's still in Warner. I've got no letters for you either, Willow. I'm sorry. I left in a hurry, see. And I didn't know if carrying letters for you might cause you more trouble if I was searched at the gate. Rinnet's been worried about you since that leather-dressed Harvester came asking questions." He paused to point meaningfully at Caul Driver, who looked on without showing any reaction. "Rinnet wanted to come here after you, but the village elders said she's needed in Warner. There's several babies growing up, for one thing. No one in Warner minded me leaving, though, and I didn't think you young'uns should have all the fun. I thought I'd join the Rats."

"You old fool Goshi!" Syme's voice rang out.

"Same to you, Deadlander," Goshi replied. "It sounded like you needed all the help you could get, from that last letter I had from you. I didn't like the news you told me about the young'uns, see. And I didn't like a city elders' man in the village, before your letter arrived. Nobody did. Heh, heh. He didn't find out much. Rummy the Trail told me the man bought him a good meal, but Rummy still kept a lot of gossip to himself, eh?"

He looked straight at Willow and winked. She knew he was referring to what had happened with the travelling Harvester, Wolf. She smiled at him, understanding that no one had told Caul Driver about it.

Goshi addressed Syme, once more. "I thought maybe it wasn't right to expect the young'uns to be getting themselves in trouble when it was us old'uns that made the messes they're trying to fix. So I decided to come here, myself. And what did I find when I arrived, eh? Did you know there's rumours all over the city about Green running loose, and Rats mixed up in it, and talents not being imaginary, after all?"

"What?" Stern Greylight spoke out, at last.

Capability Reader suddenly seemed to regain his voice as well. "Rumours are soon forgotten," he said, turning towards Caul Driver. "I sent you to deal with that, didn't I?" he asked the elders' man.

"We take Green back to Forest," Old Timber interrupted, addressing Goshi. His words had the effect of causing the Harvesters to be ignored, once more.

"Well, you'd be the ones to do it if anyone can," said Goshi. "Wanderers, eh? And Green eh?" He was staring towards the shattered wagon. "I think there's a long tale someone can tell me later on."

Slowly, Goshi hobbled up close to Stern Greylight. "Ho, Stern," he said. "I never forget a face. I see you remember mine, even after all these seasons."

"You should not be here," replied Stern, his voice sounding particularly aggressive all of a sudden.

"That's right," said Goshi. "Because I took your coin and I promised to leave the city and never come back. I promised never to tell anyone about what you did on those first harvest runs. Never to mention what I heard and saw, eh? Well, I'm an old man now, though I'm still younger than you. I've learned I don't need to keep promises I should never have made in the first place."

Willow glanced at Rock, who raised his eyebrows at her. They had not known much about Goshi's past, except that he kept a lot of it secret.

Stern Greylight said nothing more, but she saw how his jaw tightened, and lines around his eyes sharpened.

Goshi went on. "You might want to run back into the city, quick, Stern Greylight. Grab a big purse of coin and visit the printers setting up tomorrow's news-sheets. Though it's probably too late. I've been following old creaky-legs, there, for a few days, see?" He looked again towards Caul Driver. "Don't like finding out you've been hunted do you?" he asked him. "You're used to thinking you're the hunter, eh?"

Willow looked curiously towards Capability Reader, wanting to see his reaction to this news. He appeared absolutely furious.

"Your elders' man must have visited every news-sheet printer in the city last night," said Goshi. "And I followed him. Then I went back round all those printers myself. I told them some things they didn't know. Yes, I took coin in return for keeping quiet all this time, and now I've gone back on my agreement. What's left of the coin's still in the upstairs room of my house. You can fetch it if you want, Stern Greylight, though you'll have to get past a very angry woman first."

Capability Reader had taken hold of Stern's arm. He started shaking it. "What's he done?" Capability yelled. "What did you do, Stern?"

Goshi was smiling in a particularly menacing way. Willow had spent plenty of time in his company back in the hills, and she was used to his bad temper. Even so, she had never seen him look quite so threatening before.

"I was on the first ever harvest run. And I've told the news-sheets all about it. I've told them how Stern Greylight got that name. How he never smiled. He always looked miserable, and he couldn't sleep. He saw dusk and dawn, and every moment of greylight in between. I told those news-sheet printers how, once, Stern Greylight was a stone listener just like my friend Syme Deadlander. And I've told them how Stern Greylight looked so miserable all the time, because he could hear the Forest, like everyone else with a talent, then and now. But he turned his back on what he learned from it. And so, Stern Greylight was the one who persuaded all the other Harvesters to pretend the talents didn't exist. Because of his own guilt. He had listened. He had heard. But he didn't want to know. So that lie spread out directly from him, see? He started it, just to hide his shame, and now it poisons everything it touches. And my own shame is that I kept his secret for so long. And I kept his coin."

"Lies. Liar. It's not true," Stern replied.

"Once the news-sheets are read, I expect there'll be plenty of other folk offering their own stories to back me up," Goshi said, giving Stern a nasty smile. "I'm sure I wasn't the only one to hear you shouting when you finally did sleep and the bad dreams came. And I wasn't the only one to overhear you talking the other young Harvesters into going along with your plans. You all forgot about your workers, camped outside the wagons while you stayed safe inside. Didn't you? I might have been the only one stupid enough to let you find out what I knew. But I wasn't the only one to know. Or the only one to make it back to the city alive."

Willow had been staring at Goshi in complete surprise, for some time. No wonder the old man was always so grumpy.

Turning to look at the Harvesters, she now saw terror in Stern Greylight's eyes. After a few heartbeats, he turned sharply and walked away, without speaking another word.

Looking suddenly bewildered, Capability Reader began to hurry after him, followed by all the elders' people. It seemed they now had a far bigger problem than retrieving the Green.

THIRTY-ONE

Goshi was invited to Old Timber's fireside at once. So were Willow, Rock, Sparkle, Syme and Young Timber.

Willow and Rock went to the stream to wash first, and then put on some clean clothes provided by the Wanderers. They also went to the coppice, where Willow retrieved the clay mug belonging to Sparkle. Rock collected the belt knives he and Syme had left there, and the one Wildcat had been forced to drop in the grass of the clearing.

When they finally arrived at the fireside, Willow could not stop herself from hugging Goshi, making him laugh until he nearly choked. Rock had to thump him on the back to help him breathe normally again.

Willow began to question Goshi about Warner. He insisted that a bundle of letters had been sent for her with the first pack trader that came through after she had left. The fact that she had not received the letters made her suspect Caul Driver's interference. However, it was also possible the trader had taken several moons to make the journey, stopping many times along the way.

Goshi assured her that Rinnet was well and happy. Or, at least, she would be, as soon as he sent word that Willow was all right. Emmie's baby was a girl, and said to be very healthy, although Goshi had not seen her. Rune had repaired and improved Nitta's cottage. He and Emmie now lived there with their new daughter.

"So who's the angry woman you left to guard your coin, old man?" Rock wanted to know.

Goshi almost snarled. "That woman! Druse, of course. She got bored with the travelling Harvester. Came back, to find the elders had given her cottage to young Flax and young Dew, and their new baby. How was anyone supposed to know she'd ever want to come back? So Druse had to come to me. She had nowhere else to go. Well, I've given her my house, but I won't stay and share it with her. Nor the coins. I brought some with me, but not too much. She's welcome to the rest, even if she spends them all on dusk."

This news bothered Willow. She knew how much Rinnet had disliked Druse, and how much Druse had distrusted tree speaking. Yet, if Druse had got addicted to dusk in her time with Wolf the travelling Harvester, she might soon need Rinnet's help. Dusk was not often carried to the villages by pack traders. It was not traded like salt, or spices.

Goshi really did not seem to mind having given up his house. "I want to work with the Rats before I die, instead of just writing letters to them," he said, when Willow asked him about it.

"You're more than welcome to do so, old friend," said Syme, who had been quietly listening in.

After a meal beside Old Timber's campfire, Willow accompanied Sparkle to check on Wildcat. The marsh girl was sleeping on a bed made up inside a wagon, looking perfectly comfortable. In the end, they chose not to disturb her. Sparkle said the Wanderer healer had already checked the knife wound, and thought the Green's method of sealing it had worked very effectively.

By the time darkness fell, Willow had almost begun to feel safe, for the first time in days. She and Rock sat together underneath Sparkle's cart, looking out at the starry sky.

Just as Willow was thinking how peaceful it was at last, Rock suddenly grew tense. Sliding out from under the wagon, he got to his feet.

"Can't they leave us alone," she heard him mutter.

Getting up to join him, Willow saw that two cloaked figures were approaching the camp. As the two figures drew closer to the embers of Sparkle's campfire, it was clear that one of them was much smaller and shorter than the other. Their faces were hidden in the hoods of their cloaks.

Soon, other Rats were on their feet and moving to surround Rock and Willow.

"Who are you and what do you want?" called out Syme Deadlander, stepping towards the strangers.

The taller Harvester pulled back his hood. Willow recognised him. She therefore had a pretty good idea who his companion must be.

"Rust Dewsinger," she said. "Is that Naesy with you? I suppose Red gave her the cloak. It's too long."

"Naesy and I want nothing more to do with Red Dawnweaver, or any of the Harvesters," Rust answered. "We've come to ask the Rats if we can join them at the Bees' Nest."

When no one replied to that, he went on. "It's true, I went back to Capability Reader's house. But, I only went to water the honeywood sapling. Like I promised you, Willow. I've been going in secret after dark, ever since I left the household. Tonight, I saw Naesy climb the roof of the workers' privy and jump off over the wall at the back. So I went after her. She told me she was running away, and I offered to go with her. We weren't followed."

Willow saw that Sparkle and Syme were looking at each other as if they were talking with their eyes.

"I can help the Rats," Rust continued. "I know a lot about Red and Capability."

"You are a Harvester," argued Syme.

"Yes," Rust admitted. "You were too, I think. Your name... Deadlander. I know what that means. I've been looking after the honeywood sapling. I've started... well... listening. I think it spoke to me. The thing is, I've been wondering if the harvest could be different, if only Harvesters could learn to listen."

Willow saw Syme Deadlander smile. "In a strange way, Stern Greylight's proof of that," he murmured.

Willow had once trusted Naesy and Rust. But she had trusted Shim Dealer once, too. Now she did not know who might still be playing games for Red and Capability, or for Stern Greylight.

"I thought you were going to become Red's daughter. What changed your mind?" she asked Naesy, directly.

"Wildcat," Naesy answered, without hesitation. "I never expected her to actually get hurt. But, afterwards, I found out Capability always planned to kill her. He admitted it. When we went away, he was furious and he was blaming Red and Shim for everything going wrong. And he said he made Shim take Wildcat in the wagon, just to be sure Rock and Willow would follow. Then the elders' people would have taken the wagon away, with you and the Green trapped inside. But first he was going to give Shim a secret signal that all the elders' people learn. It was the signal to kill Wildcat. He was just about to give it when the tree fell. Capability wanted to be sure that Shim could kill. And Shim said he did it even without the signal, because Wildcat was breaking free. But Capability always planned for her to die, whatever she did."

Willow was hardly surprised to hear this. In fact, she almost smiled to herself at the thought that the Harvesters had not realised Wildcat had a talent they could have used. She hoped Naesy had informed them about it, afterwards. Then she remembered that Naesy did not even know Wildcat was still alive.

"Red was perfectly happy about it," Naesy went on. "From the moment Wildcat gave herself up, Red knew that Capability would want Shim to kill her. She said so when Capability was arguing with her. I was so angry when I realised. And then everything you told me started to make sense, Willow. I didn't understand why the brand bothered you so much, but now I think I do. Shim was actually willing to kill Wildcat, just to prove he could be obedient. I don't want to be like him. Please, Sparkle. Please let me come back to the Bees' Nest. I do want to learn tree speaking. And I want to teach it to other people in Riverside, Willow. Just like you said."

"It's not that simple," Sparkle put in sharply. "What did Red promise you about your brothers and your sister, Naesy? Why did you decide it was all right to go with her and leave them at the Bees' Nest in the first place?"

Naesy looked suddenly terrified. She stared at Sparkle.

"She threatened you, didn't she?" Sparkle went on. "Did she say she'd send someone after them? Did she promise to leave them alone if you came to live with her?"

"Yes," Naesy admitted. "But now I know it was a lie. If it suits her, she'll hurt them anyway. Her promises mean nothing."

Rock was shaking his head. "No one ever believes that Red will hurt them, until it's too late," he said. "No one would believe..."

He was interrupted by Old Timber, who walked out of the darkness behind them. "Strangers. Harvesters?" he asked, on seeing Rust and Naesy.

"No." Rust hurriedly tried to explain. "Not anymore. We have come to help the Rats."

"Good," replied Old Timber. "Rats are needed. I say goodbye to my Rat friends."

"Goodbye, my good friend Old Timber," Sparkle said. "We will all be leaving very soon." Then she sighed, giving Syme a sideways look.

"Naesy," Sparkle went on, "you can stay in my cottage for as long as you like, even though it means we'll have to work out a way to make Red Dawnweaver think you're somewhere else. Your brothers and your sister will be glad to have you near. And I suppose I ought to tell you that Wildcat is still alive. She's going with the Wanderers."

Willow could see Naesy's expression clearly in the firelight. The way her worried frown slowly smoothed out and her smile spread as far as her eyes was proof that she was genuinely overjoyed to hear this news.

Then Syme turned to Rust, saying, "You can stay on the island, too. If you help us. If you're known to the Rats of the Dawn Trail, that's going to be useful. We really need to talk to them. But you'll be watched until we know you can be trusted."

THIRTY-TWO

Rust and Naesy both seemed genuinely keen to make themselves useful at the Bees' Nest. Willow was happy for them, and thought they would probably turn out to be trustworthy.

She wondered what would happen to Stern and Capability. Details of Stern's huge lie would soon be in all the news-sheets. Even the ones owned by the elders would not be able to ignore it. Soon, Rust and Naesy would hear the story Goshi had revealed. The news would certainly make it easier for Naesy to interest more Riversiders in learning to use their talents.

"But, Willow, you can't stay in the city!" Naesy cried out, suddenly interrupting Willow's thoughts. "You really can't. I heard Red and Capability talking about you. They'll come for you. They want you, more than anything now, because Capability says he saw you talk to the Green. They want young people so they can train them up. And the things Caul Driver found out in the hills made them think your talent's really strong. They want to take you into the Forest right away, to help them capture more Green."

Willow felt herself shudder with fear. Her legs felt weak, and she wanted to sink down and disappear into the ground. Yet, underneath the fear, she was also angry. She had already begun to realise that staying in the city might not be the right choice after all, but not because she wanted to run from the Harvesters.

"They'll try and use Jen – Rock, to somehow force Willow to work for them," Rust added. "You two should both get away from here."

Willow turned to look at Rock, waiting for him to agree that they ought to get as far away as possible, right now.

"No. I've tried running away before," Rock said. "I ran from the city to the hills. Then I came back to the city and I ran and hid in Riverside. All I did was put Willow in danger instead of me. Running didn't help, Rust. Maybe it is time to start changing the Harvesters from the inside, like you say. Maybe they don't all have to be like Stern Greylight."

Even though the idea terrified her, Willow knew that Rock really did belong in the city. He had hidden himself in Riverside as skilfully as Wildcat could have hidden in marshland. And maybe he was right about it being time for a new kind of Harvester. If belief in the talents returned to the city, then city people could learn to respect the Forest, taking only what they needed and letting the rest live on. Rock could help them to understand. But Willow could not stay there with him.

"Rock," she said, feeling tears starting to slide onto her cheeks. "I wish I could stay at the Bees' Nest with you. I would like to teach tree speaking to anyone who'd listen, whether they came from Riverside or the rich districts. But I can't. It's..."

"Capability Reader," he interrupted. "And the others. Don't worry. I won't let them hurt you ever again. You don't need to be afraid, and you don't need to run away like I did. We can stand up to them."

"No, it's not that..."

"I'll understand if you want to go back to Warner. You've been through so much and it's your home and Rinnet could..."

"Go home to Warner, girl, home to your mother," said Goshi, backing him up.

Everything had been moving so fast since the Harvesters first came to the camp. It had been hard to make sense of anything. But in some part of her thoughts, Willow had been considering what she had learned from the Forest. Now, it had all suddenly come together in a rush, and she knew exactly what she had to do.

"No!" she cried out. "It's not any of those things. It's the Forest. It spoke to me and I have to go there. It wants me to. I'm a tree speaker. It asked me. I have to go."

"Hah!" Goshi exclaimed, but he did not contradict her.

Rock stared at her in silence for a few moments. "Me, too," he said, at last. "I heard it too, Willow. Only I tried not to listen. It was so big. I was scared. I pretended not to understand. Do you know, I could almost feel sorry for Stern. I... Well, you're braver than me, and you're right. I shouldn't have ignored it. I'll go with you if you want."

"Really?" Willow was so utterly surprised and pleased at his words, her tears flowed even faster. Impatiently, she brushed them away with the back of one hand. "We wouldn't be running away," she said, speaking only to him. "We'd be running _to_."

"I don't know any more about the Forest than you do," he warned. "I couldn't be your guide this time."

"But you could be my friend. We could learn together."

He nodded. Taking hold of her hand, he held on tightly. It was the hand of her branded arm, which still hurt, but she did not resist.

"Forest wants you. Yes, so I heard," said Old Timber, suddenly.

"What?" Willow replied, surprised again.

The old man laughed. "Forest, Green, animals, plants," he answered. "Wants you or you want them. Same thing. I hear them talking about you, and here you are talking about them. Will you come with us tomorrow morning? If you wish, you may. Rock, too."

"Will you go through the hill villages? Will you go near Warner?" Willow asked.

"No," replied Old Timber. "Nowhere near. And there is danger in Forest. Slimevine. Black beast." He looked at her without smiling, waiting for her reply.

"Yes," she said. "Please. I would like to go with you, even if there's danger. The Forest called me and I want to meet it."

"Yes," Rock added. "Me, too."

"Good," replied Old Timber. "Sleep under my wagon. Leave early tomorrow."

"All my clothes and my travelling pack are all still in Capability Reader's house, and Rock's are somewhere at the Bees' Nest, I suppose," said Willow.

"Not needed," answered Old Timber. "Leave them behind. Wanderers give all you need. You give Wanderers company and you work with us. We will cross river, cross hills, go to Forest without stopping more than one night or two in one place. Take Green. After Forest, we go on. You can stay."

Willow thought of the contents of her travelling pack. In it were her clothes and blankets, her firestone, the coins she had earned working in the stillroom, her drum, and the carved wooden mouse. Old Jesty had made the drum for her when she was a child. It was decorated with a painted rainbow, and it was the only one she had ever played. Hest had made the wooden mouse. It would be hard to leave those things behind forever. Although she could do without the coin.

"All right," she said aloud, looking at Rock.

His answering smile assured her that he was in agreement.

"That's settled, then," said Syme Deadlander. "Goshi will write to your mother, Willow, and tell her where you've gone."

Once again, Willow felt a moment's regret. She realised that if her letters from Warner ever did reach the Travellers' Exchange, she would never collect them.

"Willow's tree speaking might get stronger in the company of the Green," Sparkle pointed out. "In time, she might even be able to talk to her mother through the plants. Who knows?" She smiled at Willow as if she had guessed some of her worries. "Willow's plan to encourage the talents in Riverside is a good one," Sparkle went on, thoughtfully, "but Naesy can work on that. There could be plenty of Riversiders already using the talents, in secret. Perhaps Naesy will find them and persuade them to share what they know."

Much later, when everyone had said their goodbyes, Willow and Rock lay under Old Timber's wagon. By then, the Rats of the Bees' Nest had gone home. They had taken Goshi, Naesy and Rust along with them.

Rock was now curled around Willow's back, his arms circling her shoulders. He had cupped one hand around the elbow of her wounded arm, holding it off the ground for her.

The edges of Capability's brand had been pulled out of all recognition by the skin dance. The two stitchbark scars now looked to Willow like young toadstools feeding off a dead tree's roots.

Rock had been describing how the Forest had _talked_ to him, too, when they had been trying to get out of the crushed wagon.

"I pushed it away," he admitted. "I was scared and there was so much to worry about. I just wanted to get everyone out of there before we were all squashed flat."

"And I'm glad you did, or we wouldn't be here now," she said, patting his leg with the hand of her good arm. "Do you think we heard the Forest more strongly because we were with the Green? I never knew they could help people use their talents on each other."

"It's in one of the old stories the Wanderers tell round their campfires," Rock said. "I remembered, as soon as I started to feel what was happening. It suddenly made sense."

"When you were young, did you dream of going off with the Wanderers one day?"

Rock gave no answer. For a long while, Willow simply enjoyed the feel of being so close to him, at last.

"My plan of coming to the Spice City hasn't turned out like I expected," she said, eventually.

"We found some Rats."

"But we didn't show the city people how to live without coin. We didn't even do anything to stop the Harvesters saying the talents aren't real. Goshi seems to have managed that, all on his own."

"But would Goshi ever have broken his agreement with Stern Greylight if you hadn't come to the city?" Rock asked.

"Maybe. I don't know."

"The city's big," Rock said. "Changing things everywhere will take some time. We've learned things. We've changed ourselves. We've made some friends. Some people will remember us. But there are a lot of Harvesters like my parents. We can't affect them all."

"There are a lot of Rats, too," Willow reminded him.

Acknowledgements

With grateful thanks to the many people who have given help and encouragement during the creation of this book. Most especially, to Barbara Godwin for patient reading and thoughtful advice, and to Catherine Randle who wanted Goshi to return.

About Sally Startup

Sally Startup lives in Hampshire, England. She used to be a professional medical herbalist, so plants often get into her stories. She keeps a messy garden full of useful weeds and a herb cupboard full of home-made remedies.

Discover other titles by Sally Startup and connect with Sally online at <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sallystartup>

Tree Speaker by Sally Startup

There should not have been a deadly spike fish in the river in winter. Willow watched her best friend, Hest, paddling barefoot in the water. Hest was searching for a firestone, which he thought he had seen from the bank. Willow's other best friend, Emmie, had begged him to fetch it, because she didn't have a firestone of her own, and she badly wanted one.

"I wouldn't want to be an Animal Talker," Hest said, just before he trod on the spike fish.

Tree speaking is a talent, like stone listening and animal talking. Tree speakers are healers, knowing both plants and people. But the world beyond Willow's small village is changing. She must find a way to use her talent to protect her way of life.

Download Tree Speaker here <https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/377153>

Hearing the Forest by Sally Startup

The final book in the Tree Speaker trilogy is a longer, wider-ranging environmental fantasy.

Determined to prevent the Harvesters from destroying the Forest, Willow travels with her lover, some of her friends, and some rescued Green people. Inside the Forest, even tree speakers are vulnerable to starvation, disease, predatory animals and poisonous plants. Yet, the harvest of this wild ecosystem must be stopped, or the greater environment will also suffer. Hoping for a peaceful solution using information instead of force, Willow and her companions must first learn how to survive.

Download Hearing the Forest here <https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/939337>

