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he watched pieces of debris flashing by； all trending toward the center。 If they could make it out into the middle of the current； they might be able to ride it through the slot and into the valley without being battered against the canyon walls along the way。
Smithback watched her； the lines around his mouth tightening as he followed her train of thought。
She returned the look。 〃Can you swim？〃 she asked。
Smithback shrugged。
〃I'm going to bind us together；〃 she said。
〃No；〃 he protested。 〃I'll only drag you down。〃
〃You saved my life。 Now you're stuck with me。〃 Carefully； she peeled off the tattered remnant of his shirt； ripped off the sleeves； and twisted them into a short tether。 Leaving as much slack as possible； she tied one end to her left wrist； and the other end to Smithback's right。
〃This is a crazy…〃 Smithback began。
〃Save your breath for the ride。 Now look； we're only going to get one chance at this。 It's getting dark； we can't wait any longer。 The most important thing is to stick as much to the middle as possible。 That won't be easy； because the canyon is so narrow。 So when you find yourself getting too close to one of the walls； lightly kick away from it。 The most dangerous moment will be when the flood drops us into the valley。 Once we're there； we'd better head for the shore damn quick。 If we get swept through into the far canyon； we're done for。〃
Smithback nodded。
〃Ready？〃
Smithback nodded again； eyes narrow； lips white。
They waited for a surge to subside。 Then Nora looked at Smithback； their eyes locking as she took tight hold of his hand。 There was a moment's hesitation。 And then； together； they slid out into the flood。
Nora's first impression was of the water itself： mind…numbingly cold。 The second was of the current： it was shockingly strong； infinitely stronger than it had appeared from the rock cavity。 As they tore along； she realized there was no chance of controlling their descent： all she could do was struggle to keep from colliding with the murderous walls； blurring past sometimes a foot； sometimes mere inches away。 The surface of the water boiled and churned； full of tiny particles of wood and plant material dancing hysterically around them。 Deeper； a chaos of gravel and sand churning in the turbulence battered her legs。 Smithback struggled beside her； crying out once when the gnarled root of a tree collided with his shoulder。
A harrowing minute passed。 And then Nora saw light ahead； a vertical notch of gray amid the rushing darkness。 The canyon wall came dangerously close； and she pushed it away with a desperate kick。 Suddenly they were soaring out of the canyon； riding a huge hump of water that sailed over the scree slope and collapsed into a boiling pool。 There was an angry roar and Nora felt herself tumbled under the waves。 Jerking on the improvised cord； she frantically propelled them upward； breaking the surface。 Looking around and spitting water； she was horrified to see they had already traveled halfway through the valley。 Only a few seconds' ride ahead of them lay the narrow crevice at the far end of the valley； the flood boiling and sucking into it with a furious confusion of sound。 Then they were briefly caught in a swirl that propelled them into the slacker water near shore。
As she thrashed； Nora felt a blow to her midriff； followed by a painful scraping。 She reached down into the water； grasping for a hold； while they swung about in the current。 She realized it was the top of a stiff juniper bush。 She clawed her way across its top； groping downward for a thicker branch； feeling the current tugging at them； trying to tear them away。
〃We're hung up on a treetop；〃 she said。 Smithback nodded his understanding。
Steadying herself； Nora glanced toward shore。 It was only fifty feet away； but it might as well have been fifty miles for all the ability they had to swim across the current。
She looked downstream。 There was another treetop； this one sticking out of the flood； lashed and shivered by the water。 If they let go； they could grab that one。 As long as the roots didn't give way under the tug of the water； there was a third tree； a little farther downstream…and from that they could reach the slacker water near shore。
〃Ready？〃 she asked。
〃Stop asking me that。 I hate the water。〃
She launched into the current； grasped the next tree； then the next； dragging Smithback along； his head barely above water。 Suddenly her feet touched bottom； wonderfully solid after the flood。 Slowly； she pulled herself up on the muddy bank toward the copse of cottonwoods； Smithback staggering behind her。 They sat down heavily amid a whirlwind of splintered branches； Smithback collapsing in pain。 Nora undid the twisted rag that bound them； then rolled onto her back； sides heaving； coughing up water。
There was a ragged flash of lightning； followed by the sharp crackle of thunder。 She looked up to see that a second； smaller storm had covered the canyon with a counterpane of darkness。 Her thoughts turned to the weather report。 Clear skies； it had said。 How could the report have been so wrong？
The rain grew heavier。 Nora turned her face away from it； looking up the ruined bank toward camp。 There was something strange about the camp that she couldn't quite put her finger on。 Then she understood： it had been carefully set up again； the struck tents repitched； the equipment carefully tarped against the rain。
Makes sense； I suppose； she thought。 No one was going anywhere for a long time； at least； not out the slot canyon。
And yet the camp was deserted。
Had the rest of the expedition sought sanctuary in Quivira itself？ But if so； why would they still be there； now that the worst of the flood had passed？
She sat up and looked at Smithback； who was lying on his stomach； water and blood trickling together into the sand。 He was hurt。 But at least he was alive。 Not like Aragon。 She had better get him to the warmth and safety of a tent。
〃Can you walk？〃 she asked。
He swallowed hard and nodded。 She helped him to his feet； he staggered a little； took a few steps； then staggered against her again。
〃Just a little farther；〃 she murmured。
She half dragged； half carried him to the high ground of the deserted camp。 Hauling him into the medical tent； she rummaged through the supplies； picking out a painkiller； antibiotic ointment； and gauze bandages。 Then she paused to poke her head out of the tent and look around。 Once again； she was struck by how deserted the place was。 Had they all been swept away？ No； of course not： someone had to have repitched the tents。 And Sloane and Swire； certainly； would have known right away what was up。 They would have made sure everyone got to high ground in time。
She opened her mouth； preparing to call out。 But then she shut it again。 Some vague instinct she did not understand told her to remain silent。
She withdrew into the tent and looked at Smithback。 〃How are you doing？〃 she asked quietly。
〃Bloody great；〃 he said； wincing。 〃So to speak。〃
Looking down at the wet hair plastered over his forehead； Nora felt a sudden welling of affection。 〃Can you stand moving again？〃 she asked。
He looked at her。 〃Why？〃
She shook her head。 〃Because I think we should get out of here。〃
She saw the question in his brown eyes。
〃There's something strange going on；〃 she continued。 〃And； whatever it is； I'd rather learn more about it from a distance。〃 She handed him a couple of painkillers； passed him a canteen； then began dressing the horrible lacerations on his back。 He stiffened； but did not plain。
〃How e you're not protesting？〃 she asked。
〃Don't know；〃 came the slurred response。 〃Guess I'm numb from the water。〃
He was shivering now； his forehead clammy。 He's going into shock； she thought。 The rain outside was increasing steadily； and the wind had picked up； buffeting the sides of the tent。 She realized； with a dull finality； that there was no way she could move him； at least not now。
〃Keep that sleeping bag bundled close；〃 she said； stroking his cheek。 〃I'm going to see if I can't get some hot liquid into you。〃 Gently tucking the sleeping bag around him； she moved toward the opening of the tent。
〃Nora；〃 came the voice from beneath the sleeping bag； slow and dreamlike。
She turned。 〃Yes？〃
Smithback looked at her。 〃Nora；〃 he said again。 〃You know； after all that's happened between us 。 。 。 well； I'd really like to tell you how I feel。〃
She stared at him。 Then； gliding closer； she took his hand in hers。 〃Yes？〃
His lips parted in a feeble grin。 〃I really feel like shit；〃 came the dry whisper。
Nora shook her head； laughing despite herself。 〃You're incorrigible。〃
She bent closer and kissed him。 Then she kissed him again； a gentle； lingering kiss。
〃Please； sir； I want some more；〃 Smithback murmured。
She smiled at him for a moment。 Then； drawing back； she crawled out of the tent； securing its front flap。 Hunching her shoulders against the rain； she moved across the camp； heading for the supply cache。
58
SLOANE GODDARD STOOD IN THE MURK OF THE kiva； gazing at the rows of gleaming pots。 For a long time； she saw nothing else。 It was as if the outer world of time and space had retreated to a vast distance； leaving nothing but this small space behind。 As she stared； she forgot everything…Holroyd's death； the flash flood； Nora and the others； the creeping presence of the horse killers。
Only a few small sherds of black…on…yellow micaceous pottery had ever been found。 To see them whole was a revelation。 They were transcendentally beautiful； by far the most exquisite pottery she had ever seen。 Each piece had been perfectly shaped and formed； and polished with smooth stones to a sensuous luster。 The clay they had been made from fired to an intense yellow； but the color had been immeasurably enhanced by the addition of crushed mica to the clay。 The resulting pottery shimmered with an internal light； and as Sloane stared at them…at the heaps of bowls and jugs； hunchbacked figurines； skulls； pots； and effigies…she felt they were more beautiful than gold。 They had a warmth； a vitality； the precious metal lacked。 Each piece had been decorated with geometric and zoomorphic designs of superlative artistry and skill： the entire pictographical history of the Anasazi people； laid out before her。
It was all here； as she had been certain it would be： the mother lode of micaceous pottery。 It had been her father's pet project： over the course of thirty years； he had mapped each rare sherd； traced hypothetical trade routes； searched for the source。 Because the number of discovered fragments was so small； he had theorized that this pottery was the single most prized possession of the Anasazi people； and that it was stored in a central； most likely religious； place。 Eventually； after mapping the distribution points of all known sherds； he had e to believe its location would be somewhere back in the labyrinthine canyons。 Briefly； he had entertained dreams of finding the source himself。 But he had grown old and sick。 Then； when word of Nora and her father's letter reached him； hope had sprung anew。 Instantly； he realized that Quivira； if it existed； might be the source of the fabulous pottery。 It was speculative； of course…much too speculative for a man of his position to publish； or even broadcast。 But it was enough to launch an expedition； with his daughter on the team。
Sloane knew she was supposed to have discussed the matter privately； with Nora； if they ever found the city。 But； of course； there was no way she would have cued Nora into the great discovery that lay ahead。 Nora already had more than her share of the glory。 How many times； on the trail to Quivira； had the thought wormed its way bitterly into Sloane's heart： there she was； taking orders from a second…tier； untenured academic； when by rights she should be the one in mand。 In the end it would be Nora； and by extension Sloane's father； who would get all the credit： just another example of her father's thoughtlessness； his lack of faith in her。
Well； things would be different now。 If Nora hadn't been so selfish； so stubbornly dictatorial； it wouldn't have had to end this way。 But as fate would hav