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strayed far from Temple Gardens since arriving as a nervous refugee, and she immediately felt her stomach knotting with anxiety. But she had huge faith in Twitcher—he was not one of those loud boastful monkeys who went strangely silent when things got difficult; his self-deprecating manner belied a real strength of character. Papina felt that she could trust him no matter what.
    His knowledge of the city was exhaustive—he seemed to have the entire street network lodged in his mind, and it wasn’t long before they found themselves running stealthily up the road toward the old cemetery. At the crest of the hill, Twitcher dived into the shadows under a mobile tea stall and pointed to the main gate—they could see silhouettes moving in front of it in the shadows.
    “The entrance is guarded. This is as far as we go,” he said, trying to hide his relief.
    “You didn’t really think we were just going to walk in?” Papina smiled. “As if. There’s a secret entrance. We used it all the time when we played hide-and-seek. I bet they haven’t found it yet.”
    “That’s really not a good idea,” Twitcher warned, trying to think of a reason that would stop her.
    “Why don’t I lead from here?” Papina cut in.
    “Do I have a choice?”
    “No.”
    Twitcher gave a resigned sigh. “After you, then, I suppose.” And he followed Papina as she darted down an alley that skirted the cemetery.
    Even though it had been many moons since she’d last played here, the memories flooded back, and soon they arrived at a stone pool built into the outside of the cemetery wall that collected water from a nearby rising well. Papina looked down at the fresh, clear water gurgling gently, and the sound transported her back.
    Twitcher watched her silently. He’d seen that air of loss so many times on the faces of refugee monkeys, but to see Papina in the grip of it stirred something within him that he’d never felt before, a longing to make things better, to somehow heal her life.
    Being Twitcher, of course, he wouldn’t dream of telling her, so as usual he made a quip. “Ah, so we’re going to swim in?”
    “How did you know?” Papina’s earnest expression wiped the smile from Twitcher’s face.
    “What?!”
    “This is how the fresh water gets into the bathing pool. There’s a hole in the bottom of the wall. All you’ve got to do is dive down and feel for it.”
    Twitcher peered nervously into the bubbling water. “Fine,” he said, trying to put on a brave face. But Papina knew that monkeys who hadn’t been brought up as swimmers could be frightened of water.
    “Look,” she said gently, “why don’t you stay out here and keep a lookout for langur patrols?”
    “I can’t let you go in there on your own!”
    “And I can’t have you splashing about like a bird in a bath.” Papina smiled. “It’ll be safer this way—”
    “No.”
    “I’ll be fine!”
    Twitcher realized he was trying to persuade an immovable will. He nodded reluctantly. “Just don’t get caught. Whatever you do, don’t get caught.”
    Papina smiled. “Don’t worry, I know this cemetery like the back of my hand.”
    And with that she dived into the pool and was gone.

M ico had come to really enjoy the night exercises.
    Once he’d learned to conquer his fear of the dark, he found that in many ways night was the soldier’s friend. Although it was harder to see the enemy, it was easier to find hiding places, and because there was much less noise, it was possible to use each sound to read the darkness.
    Tonight’s exercise was a solo mission, “Going to Ground.” Mico had to dig himself into the undergrowth and stay there until dawn. At some point the instructors would come looking for him, and he had to try and avoid detection.
    Judging by the position of the moon, Mico reckoned he was about halfway through. He’d made a shelter in a secluded corner between a collapsed headstone and the gully that ducted fresh water into the Great Vault.