“WHERE are we going?” asked Sophie, after they had ridden without speaking for several miles. “To Waknuk?”

“For the moment, yes, back towards Waknuk—or at least the surrounding district. It’s dangerous for you, but less dangerous than staying back there.” He pointed back along the path. “I know the area well and it’s our best chance of getting you—and me—to somewhere really safe. And there’s something else. There’s someone back at Waknuk…”

“A girl, is it? I might have guessed!”

Michael decided to be open with her. “Yes, Sophie, a young woman. One of us.” He emphasised the ‘us’ so that she understood.

“Another one who can give you babies, when I can’t give anyone…” she said bitterly, her voice trailing off. Michael felt embarrassed, but quickly recovered himself when he saw that she was close to tears. Was she showing him some affection? Aside from Rachel’s half-concealed thoughts, nothing like this had ever happened to him. But he quickly collected himself.

“Please, Sophie, try to understand. Yes we’re all terribly sorry about what happened to you, when you first came to the Fringes. But we can’t undo that: no-one can. You must try to come to terms with it. There are women in Waknuk and the surrounding district, and Kentak too, who can’t have babies. Not because of … what happened to you. They just can’t. I learnt something about these things when I was at school. Many of them go on to lead happy and loving married lives. It’s not the best, but it’s a reason for living. Surely you can see that?”

Sophie made no reply. She was clearly unconvinced. But she held back her tears for then.

What Michael had been searching for, of course, was the place where he had last been close enough to contact Rachel by thought-shapes. With every step they were drawing closer to being in range. So far, testing every few minutes, he had drawn a blank. And it was now getting dark.

“We’ll have to rest here. And we need to keep watch. Do you think you can manage that? Can you handle a bow?” He handed her the bow and arrows without even thinking.

“Are you out of your mind? Any other time, of course I’d say I can,” replied Sophie, relieved to be offered a task that she might otherwise have fulfilled. “How do you suppose we get food in the Fringes? We’re taught to shoot almost as soon as we can walk. I think I’m a good shot—but how on earth can I use a bow like this?” pointing to her bound-up arm in a sling.

Michael apologised for his stupidity: for not having thought it through—his mind was so occupied with worries about Rachel. “Oh well, we’ll have to do the best we can,” taking back the bow and laying it on the ground. “Will you take first watch? Wake me at once if you hear or see anything.”

“All right,” said Sophie.

Michael gratefully lay down on the ground and was fast asleep in minutes. A few hours later, Sophie woke him with the report that nothing amiss had happened; not a soul had come by; and he took over the watch for what was left of the night.

The next morning, without having seen anyone, they mounted and resumed their journey.

After little over an hour, to his infinite joy, Michael was able to re-establish contact with Rachel. She too was overwhelmed and delighted, and could not conceal her feelings towards Michael. For a while they exchanged frantic love-thoughts—Michael at last realising that his feelings towards Rachel were more than just friendship and sympathy.

It took quite a while before they were able to disentangle their emotions and turn to more mundane matters.

Finally, Rachel became composed. She at once asked what had happened to him, and also what had happened to David, Rosalind, and Petra. Michael, once again, had to be cagey about this. Because they were using thought-shapes, he had to be even more careful than he had been with Sophie. He merely said that the other three were safe—they had been carried off to safety by the Sealand woman (not Sealand! “Zealand”). Of the final scene at the Fringes clearing he kept his mind closed: he tried not to even think of what he had seen there, for fear Rachel might catch his nightmarish memories.

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“And where are you? Are you coming back?” asked Rachel. Michael was relieved not to have been pressed further on the scenes at the clearing. “Yes, I am,” he replied, “and I’m bringing someone with me. One of the Fringes people. There’s no risk. Please don’t worry.”

That seemed to satisfy Rachel—after all she was a very clear-headed girl, and knew that Michael would never have fallen in with someone who could be a danger to them. So instead she passed on all the news about Waknuk and the surrounding area. There wasn’t much to report. No-one had yet returned from the sortie into Fringe territory, so no news had come from that direction. The farm-work was continuing as best they could manage with so many of their menfolk absent.

They resumed occasional bouts of love-talk, but it dawned on Rachel that Michael had to devote all his attention to path-finding, so she left him in peace.

Michael was suddenly aware of Sophie, behind him, having become very still, as if she were frozen. He reined in the horse and dismounted, turning to look at her. Still astride the horse, she was regarding him with a thoughtful expression.

“You were ‘talking’ to that girl, weren’t you.” Sophie used exactly the same words as she had spoken to David, only a day or two previously. “The one back in Waknuk? Talking with your thoughts. I could tell.”

“Yes, I was. Please don’t be upset about it. I needed to tell here we’re on our way.”

“I think you told her a lot more than that! But I’m not upset, not now. All right: I was a bit upset when I realised David was ‘talking’ to Rosalind even when she wasn’t there—back in the cave. But I’ve got over that. You and your friends have something I haven’t got—at least not now. But I wonder if I’m picking some thoughts up. I seemed to get some lovey-dovey thoughts coming from Rachel, besides those from you…”

Michael was astonished—and a bit embarrassed—but quickly composed himself. “Try to send me a thought of yours,” he said. And quietly to Rachel: “Please don’t butt in!”

He opened his mind to full reception and strained to pick up something from Sophie. Yes there was something there: some feeling of joy at her rescue and some tender thoughts towards Michael her rescuer. But it was too incoherent to be properly described as thought-speech. After a while Sophie held up her hand.

“Yes you have something there,” said Michael, bemused. “I wonder? Did you have any of this while in the Fringes? Or before?”

“No, but my mother did. David told me that, when we first met, just after he found out about my feet, he could pick up some of her ‘worried’ thoughts quite easily. But she never knew she was making them.”

“I wonder…” Michael muttered, again, quietly to himself.

“And besides: Mother told me once that she thought David could read her mind. I thought little of it at the time. But now—all of a sudden—something’s happened to me.”

“Is it, perhaps, that being in the company of people who can do thought-shapes, sort of stimulates the latent power in others…?”

“Maybe,” replied Sophie. “But I spent a lot of time as a child in David’s company. And nothing like this happened to me back then. Of course I didn’t know everything about him in those days, and possibly his powers weren’t fully developed back then…”

Michael said nothing but re-mounted, and they continued along the path.

For several days they rode through the forest. Once or twice they had the good fortune to shoot a rabbit, but they had very few arrows, and Michael did not want to risk losing any, so they took no risks. Sophie recovered with remarkable speed: clearly the hardships of Fringe life had strengthened her physically. In a few days she was able to remove the sling, and could shoot almost as well as Michael. But still they encountered not a soul: the whole countryside seemed deserted.

And they were running low on food.

Their horse was now visibly getting very tired. For a while Michael dismounted and walked alongside. They were now out of the forest, and Michael recognised the more open country as the place where the first shots had been fired, and the great-horses had bolted into the forest.

“There’s a farm some miles further on,” Michael announced. “I remember us assembling there. The great-horses bearing David and the others, towards the Fringes, had charged through it but the farm people were unable to stop them. We arrived some time later and gathered there before pushing on into the forest. It may be that we can get help there—even a second horse perhaps. I have a little money. The people of the farm will be Wild Country folk. They won’t persecute human Deviations like the Waknuk folk do. They may not even notice. Or you could stay hidden…”