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the street outside； and； in some of the larger streams； fish； which formed the staple diet of the clans that lived in the vicinity。
There were men as well as women among these extended families； some of whom must have been members of the mobs and armies that had run so brutally riot on the night the Autarch fell。 But either gratitude at having survived the revolution or the calming influence of the growth and plenitude around them had persuaded them to better purpose。 Hands that had maimed and murdered were now employed rebuilding a few of the houses； raising their walls not in defiance of the jungle； or the waters that fed it； but in league with both。 This time； the architects were women； who'd e down from their baptisms inspired to use the wreckage of the old city to create a new one； and everywhere Jude saw echoes of the serene and elegant aesthetic that marked the Goddesses' handiwork。
There was no great sense of urgency attending these constructions； nor； she thought； any sign of a grand design being adhered to。 The age of empire was over； and all dogmas； edicts； and conformities had gone with it。 People solved the problems of putting a roof over their heads in their own way； knowing that the trees were both shady and bountiful in the meantime； the houses that resulted were as different as the faces of the women who supervised their construction。 The Sartori she'd met in Gamut Street would have approved； Jude thought。 Hadn't he touched her cheek during their penultimate encounter and told her he'd dreamed of a city built in her image？ If that image was woman then here was that city； rising from the ruins。
So by day they had the murmuring canopy； the bubbling rivers； the heat； the laughter。 And by night； slumbers beneath a feathered roof and dreams that were kind and uninterrupted。 Such was the case； at least； for a week。 But on the eighth night； Jude was woken by Hoi…Polloi； who called her to the window。
〃Look。〃
She looked。 The stars were bright above the city and ran silver in the river below。 But there were other forms in the water； she realized： more solid but no less silver。 The talk they'd heard on the road was true。 Climbing the river were creatures that no fishing boat； however deep it trawled； would ever have found in its nets。 Some had a trace of dolphin in them； or squid； or manta ray； but their mon trait was a hint of humanity； buried as deep in their past （or future） as their homes were in ocean。 There were limbs on some of them； and these few seemed to leap the slope rather than swim it。 Others were as sinuous as eels but had heads that carried a mammalian cast； their eyes luminous； their mouths fine enough to make words。
The sight of their ascent was exhilarating； and Jude stayed at the window until the entire shoal had disappeared up the street。 She had no doubt of their destination； nor indeed of her own； after this。
〃We're as rested as we're ever going to be；〃 she said to Hoi…Polloi。
〃So it's time to go up the hill？〃
〃Yes。 I think it is。〃
They left the Peccable house at dawn in order to make much of the ascent before the et climbed too high and the humidity sapped their strength。 It had never been an easy journey； but even in the cool early morning it became a backbreaking trudge； especially for Jude； who felt as though she were carrying a lead weight in her womb rather than a living soul。 She had to call a halt to the climb several times and sit in the shade to catch her breath； but on the fourth such occasion she rose to find her gasps being steadily shallower and a pain in her belly so acute she could barely hold on to consciousness。 Her agitation…and Hoi…Polloi's yelps…drew helping hands； and she was being lowered onto a knoll of flowering grasses when her waters broke。
A little less than an hour later； not more than half a mile from where the gate of the twin saints Creaze and Evendown had stood； in a grove busy with tiny turquoise birds； she gave birth to the Autarch Sartori's first and only child。
Though Jude and Hoi…Polloi's pursuers had left the lake maker in the Kwem with clear directions； they still reached Yzordderrex six weeks later than the women。 This was in part because Monday's sexual appetite was significantly depleted after his liaison in the Kwem Palace； and he set a far less hectic pace than he had hitherto； but more particularly because Gentle's enthusiasm for cartography grew by leaps and bounds。 Barely an hour would go by without his remembering some province he'd passed through； or some signpost he'd seen； and whenever he did so the journey was interrupted while he brought out his handmade album of charts and religiously set down the details； rattling off the names of uplands； lowlands； forests； plains； highways； and cities like a litany while he worked。 He wouldn't be hurried； even if the chance of a ride was missed； or a good drenching gained in the process。 This was； he told Monday； the true great work of his life； and he only regretted that he'd e to it so late。
These interruptions notwithstanding； the city got closer day by day； mile by mile； until one morning； when they raised their heads from their pillows beneath a hawthorn bush； the mists cleared to show them a vast green mountain in the distance。
〃What is that place？〃 Monday wondered。
Astonished； Gentle said； 〃Yzordderrex。〃
〃Where's the palace？ Where's the streets？ All I can see is trees and rainbows。〃
Gentle was as confounded as the boy。 〃It used to be gray and black and bloody；〃 he said。
〃Well； it's fucking green now。〃
It got greener the closer they came； the scent of its vegetation so sweetening the air that Monday soon lost his scowl of disappointment and remarked that perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all。 If Yzordderrex had turned into a wild wood； then maybe all the women had bee savages； dressed in berry juice and smiles。 He could suffer that awhile。
What they found on the lower slopes； of course； were scenes more extraordinary than Monday's most heated imaginings。 So much of what the inhabitants of the New Yzordderrex took for granted…the anarchic waters； the primeval trees…left both man and boy agog。 They gave up voicing their awe after a time and simply climbed through the lavish thicket； steadily sloughing off the weight of baggage they'd accrued on their journey and leaving it scattered in the grass。
Gentle had intended to go to the Eurhetemec Kesparate in the hope of locating Athanasius； but with the city so transformed it was a slow and difficult trek； so it was more luck than wit that brought them； after an hour or more； to the gate。 The streets beyond it were as overgrown as those they'd e through； the terraces resembling some orchard that had been left to riot； its fallen fruit the rubble that lay between the trees。
At Monday's suggestion； they split up to search for the Maestro； Gentle telling the boy that if he saw Jesus somewhere in the trees then he'd discovered Athanasius。 But they both came back to the gate having failed to find him； obliging Gentle to ask some children who'd e to play swinging games on the gate if any of them had seen the man who'd lived here。 One of the number； a girl of six or so with her hair so plaited wit