When once a man is launched on such an adventure as this, he must bid farewell to hopes and fears, otherwise death or deliverance will both come too late to save his honour and his reason. -- C. S. Lewis, The Silver Chair

Never in his life had Hariye run so fast before. Even his escape from the Peacekeeping Corp was nothing compared to this. He sprinted down the road and never slowed until he reached a crossroads. There he paused only long enough to pick the route most likely to lead to the sea before he took off again. His legs ached and his lungs burned but he didn't dare slow down. Ketevan had a horse. She could easily overtake him if she guessed where he was going.

The sun rose higher and higher. The land changed from forest to hills and fields. Hariye passed farmers driving carts who stopped to stare at him. But he didn't care what they thought, because in the distance he could see the sunlight dancing on the sea.

With everything else he had to worry about -- mainly Ketevan and the very real possibility she could appear at any minute -- he had no time to think about anything else. He barely even noticed how tired he was. Then his foot caught on a rock, he tumbled to the ground, and all the exhaustion and pains caused by running so fast hit him all at once.

Hariye couldn't move for what felt like an eternity. He lay frozen in place, gasping for breath and straining his ears for approaching hooves. No one came along the road while he lay there.

Finally he recovered enough to move. His legs hurt too much to stand, so he crawled over to the side of the road. The grass was cool and still had drops of dew clinging to it. He scrambled painfully across it until he reached the hedge separating the road from the field beyond. In front of the hedge was a ditch, deep enough for an adult to lie in without being seen -- as long as no one looked too closely. A small stream trickled through it.

Hariye slid down into the ditch. It was muddy, but the water soothed his aching muscles and the hedge shielded him from the sun. He lay there for a long time. Birds chirped overhead. A rabbit poked its head out of the hedge, spotted him, and immediately bounded away. Once he heard footsteps on the road. He tensed until he heard children's high voices. No one else came along the road.

Gradually he slipped into a doze, and then he fell deeply asleep.

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Ketevan had two advantages over Hariye: she had a horse, and she knew the countryside. She deduced that he was heading for the sea. Obviously he would go right at the crossroads, because the left road went inland towards the mountains. But what he didn't know was that the right road would lead him through a village before he got to the sea. She guessed that in his current mental state the last thing he would want was to go near people.

If she was in his position she would hide somewhere until evening and only venture out when the village was quiet. So she based her plans on that assumption.

She rode slowly, stopping to examine any likely hiding places. When she passed farmers on the road she stopped to ask if they'd seen Hariye.

"I seen him," one man said. "Running like the police were after him, he was."

"He's a thief who broke into my house and stole my mother's jewellery," Ketevan told him. "When you get to the next town, tell the constable to raise the alert."

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Hariye jolted awake. For a minute he couldn't tell where he was. Everything was cold and wet and slimy. He seemed to be lying in a puddle. Something tapped against his nose and made him feel like he was about to sneeze.

He opened his eyes. For a minute he blinked at the green things waving in front of his face. They resolved themselves into blades of grass. He raised his head and looked around. A bird took fright and flew off the hedge when he moved.

If it wasn't for the fact he was still lying in the ditch he could have dismissed the last few hours as a nightmare. But he knew no nightmare would have made him go to sleep in a muddy stream. Anyway, he could still feel Ketevan's kiss lingering like a phantom pain.

He began to sit up. Then he froze. A horse whickered gently somewhere nearby.

Hariye didn't dare lie down again in case he splashed the water. He couldn't sit up in case someone saw him. All he could do was kneel in the ditch and hold his breath, waiting for some sign of what was happening.

A faint thump reverberated through the ground. It was followed by another. Hariye listened intently, trying to piece together what was happening. When the thumps reached the road they turned into the clip-clop of a horse's hooves. From that he deduced that the horse had wandered onto the grass. Its rider couldn't be in a hurry or they'd have urged it on.

The horse stopped again further down the road. He couldn't have explained how he knew it, but somehow he was sure that the rider was scanning the countryside intently. After a terrifying pause, in which he expected someone to discover him at any minute, the horse moved on again. The noise of its hooves faded away into the distance.

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Hariye sank back down onto the muddy ground. To his own surprise he found he was shaking so badly that he couldn't stand up. All the strength seemed to have gone out of his limbs. He waited until he'd recovered. Then he waited a bit longer to give the horse and rider time to get well ahead of him. When he judged it was safe he scrambled out of the ditch.

The first thing he noticed was that it was mid-afternoon and heading for evening. The sun's light gave a golden tinge to everything it touched. He spotted a moving shape in a distant field. His heart stopped for a second before he realised it was only a farmer and a team of horses doing some work. The farmer gave no sign of having seen him.

His shoes squelched as he walked. His clothes were filthy and dripped muddy water with every step.

I have to find somewhere to hide, he thought. Anyone who saw him in this state would at best assume he'd had an accident and at worst think he was up to no good. Either option meant more attention than was good for him. I'll find a river to clean up in. Maybe I can follow it down to the sea. And I won't go much further until it's dark.

Ketevan would have a hard job finding him in the dark.

Hariye followed the road until it went through another forest. Then he left it and climbed down the hillside. The trees were starting to lose their leaves and gave less cover than he'd hoped. But he was close enough to the sea to smell the salt in the air. Best of all, he could hear running water somewhere nearby.

Travelling through the forest was harder than he'd expected. Everywhere he went there was undergrowth to trip him up. No matter which direction he tried, he never seemed to get closer to the water. All he knew for certain was that he was still going down a fairly steep hill.

Suddenly the ground opened up in front of his feet. In the ravine below him a river roared past. Hariye stared down at it in dismay. This wasn't the sort of river he'd wanted to find. Going swimming in it was out of the question. He couldn't even reach it to splash water on his face.

It's heading down to the sea, he told himself firmly. If I follow it I'll get there somehow.

Following the river was easier said than done. As the light faded it became more dangerous to walk beside the ravine. Mer or not, Hariye didn't fancy the idea of having to swim in that water. It was too fast-flowing and had too many rocks.

At last he left the forest. The ravine had now become a shallow gorge but the river was no slower. Hariye stopped to look around.

Behind him was the forest. Now he saw that what he had mistaken for a hill was actually a small mountain. This part of the shore was much more mountainous than the part he'd seen when he first arrived in Vakaryan. Ahead of him was still part of the mountainside, sloping down to the sea in a series of hills. The river ran down it. In the distance he spotted the road again. It crossed the river over an arched bridge. As he watched five people on horseback trotted over the bridge.

Hariye knelt down at the side of the gorge and splashed water on his face. He could do nothing about his clothes, but at least he felt slightly less dirty now. Then he sat down beside the river and waited for the sun to set.

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Ketevan had learnt as a teenager how to track both animals and people in all sorts of terrain. She put that knowledge to good use now. Hariye had been running in a panic, taking no care to cover his tracks. She easily followed him along the road. At some point where the ground was drier she lost him, and by the time she reached the forest she guessed he'd turned off somewhere before there.

She continued anyway. There was only one place he could be going, and if he was trying to take a short-cut to the sea he would have to cross Treshin Bridge. No one could swim the river -- not even a mer could get past the waterfall beyond the bridge -- so if he followed the river he would have to come onto dry land for the last mile or so.

When she passed the watchtowers along the road she repeated her story about Hariye stealing from her. Soon she had a contingent of soldiers posted along the road, keeping an eye out for anyone matching Hariye's description.

It was almost dark. She reined in her horse in the middle of Treshin Bridge. The lamps were lit on both sides on the bridge. They shone out onto the road, not back onto the bridge. From a distance no one would see her while she could see them. Beside her was a short stretch of land and river that ended in cliffs and a waterfall.

Years ago, when she and her mother were still able to interact without it ending in a fight, her mother had taken Ketevan hunting. Khvareshan had shown her how to follow a deer's tracks and predict where it was going to appear next.

Her mother had said, "Sometimes you get a feeling you know where it'll be although you've no solid proof to back this up, and usually those feelings are right."

Ketevan had taken that lesson to heart. She had a feeling that Hariye would cross the road somewhere near the bridge, and so she waited.

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The sun had set and the stars were twinkling overhead by the time Hariye reached the road. He was dusty, his clothes were coated with dried mud, he was terribly tired and hungry, and now he saw that he couldn't reach the sea from here unless he wanted to jump off a cliff.

He weighed up his options and decided that the road to the left, which travelled downhill, was the best direction. He didn't risk walking on the road itself. The lights from the bridge shone onto it and he'd be obvious to anyone watching. Instead he walked along the slope beside it, able to keep it in view while hopefully staying out of sight.

A horse neighed behind him. Hariye jumped, tripped, and rolled down onto the road. A shadow fell over him. Someone blew a whistle. He scrambled to his feet. A horse and rider emerged from where they'd been concealed by the bridge's lights.

Hariye turned and tried to run. The rider spurred their horse to a gallop and overtook him easily. A sword -- still in its sheath -- was pressed under his chin, forcing him to look up.

Ketevan stared down at him. Even in the darkness he knew she was smiling.

"Silly boy," she said in a chillingly gentle voice. "Whatever were you thinking of? Why did you run away like that? You know it's dangerous."

Hariye shuddered but forced himself to return her stare. "I'm going home and you can't stop me."

Her hand descended like a vise on his shoulder. "Perhaps not, but I can tell everyone what you are. Do you think anyone on either side of the Blood Water would let you live?"

"I don't believe anything you've ever told me," he said defiantly.

"But are you willing to risk it?"

Footsteps and hoof-beats approached behind Ketevan. Hariye craned his neck to see what was happening. A group of soldiers had come on the scene.

"No need to look any more," Ketevan told them. She smiled down at him. "I've found him."