He felt Krinata shudder horribly with each shift in consciousness. Darllanyu only took it, hanging on grimly. Llistyien fought nausea at the sudden transposition, but as their awareness came back to single perspective, Venlagar and Zannesu settled into their new Offices, relieving a great deal of the strain.

Jindigar built the Oliat pattern again, finally bringing Zannesu into balance, his initial panic beginning to subside.

//Jindigar, help her!// pleaded his new Receptor, and let them all feel the bewildered confusion coming down the tenuous link from Eithlarin, who had fled her own intolerable memories and deserted the world-plane, but was held back from the sweet oblivion of death she sought by the Oliat link.

Trinarvil was kneeling at the head of Jindigar's cot, gesturing as if trying to attract Krinata's attention. "You must let her go!" she demanded in an urgent whisper.

"//No!//"

"Then we'll lose all of you. How long can you hold—"

Feeling every bit of Zannesu's anguish, Jindigar answered as if it were Darllanyu out there. "//As long as we must—as long as she can.//" Sometimes—rarely—people returned from that far place. But she has chosen it.

Trinarvil put one hand on Krinata's forehead and looked into her eyes. "Jindigar—can you hear me?"

"//Yes,//" answered Krinata, her voice husky.

Jindigar was aware of her body warming now despite her clothes, which were dampened by splashed pond water.

"We've got to take Eithlarin to the worldcircle. If she and

Dar are in the circle when Dar's dose of pensone wears off, Renewal may lure Eithlarin hack. Can the Oliat move?"

"//Yes,//" they answered, Krinata's voice breaking this time. She clung to Jindigar, burying her face against him, as if he were her only anchor to reality.

Jindigar's eyes met Cyrus's. He held Krinata against him, wishing he could soak up the shocks still washing through her system. Hut at least she's alive. I haven't broken my promise to Cyrus yet.

//Let Eithlarin go, Jindigar,// said Zannesu wearily. Jindigar had set the links so that Zannesu was the only one really in touch with Eithlarin. //She can't make it.//

They were in the Aliom Temple. Eithlarin, shrouded in folds of white, lay on an elevated platform within the worldcircle, which was bright of itself but cast no light to see by. Jindigar, Krinata, and Zannesu sat around the rim. Venlagar and Llistyien had gone to cat, while Trinarvil was trying to help Darllanyu purge the drug from her system fast enough to do Eithlarin some good.

//You don't mean that,// answered Jindigar. Dusk cast dense shadows through the skylight. This was a dark world—depressing. Would Dushau eyes ever adjust? He could "see" Zannesu only via the Oliat senses or through Krinata's human night vision. Did Eithlarin want to return to such a world? Should he wish that fate on her? With his aching fingertips he .strummed a random chord on his whule. //But even if you meant it, Zannesu I couldn't let her go. I'm going to keep vigil until Darllanyu is free of pensone, and then we're going to give Eithlarin one last chance to return to us—to this world– to you.//

//There's probably been brain damage. I'd rather die Incomplete than make her suffer that.//

His implication was clear—that Jindigar wanted to recall Eithlarin only to spare the rest of them the risk of her death. //Renewal may repair the brain damage—if she has someone to love her, to stimulate her, to recast her body, to serve her \ anew.. Does she, Zannesu?//

//You know she does. Jindigar, I would have killed you in that moment when you cut her off! How can you ever trust me again?//

//No Dushau would have behaved differently, my zunre. There isn't an officer of this Oliat who would hesitate to work with you. When the time comes, we'll all be in the circle, and we'll unite in our call to Eithlarin. If we can bring her to us– even just a little closer—we'll try to Dissolve and let you bring her to Renewal.//

It sounded so simple. But even in the Archive Jindigar had found no record of an Oliat using the forces of its officers' Renewal in any way, least of all to Dissolve.

Venlagar, Inreach now, intruded on the linkages with the aroma of stew and a fresh grain bread concocted by the humans. //If you're to have the strength to do it, Zannesu, you'd better come eat. Sure you don't want some, Jindigar?//

//In a while. Go ahead, Zannesu. I'll watch her.// «

He rose. //If you have to let her go, Jindigar—do it gently. Her suffering is so pointless.// The new Receptor went toward the inner door to their living chamber, his steps heavy, his weariness dragging at them all. Only part of him had given her up. The rest fought the loss, and the battle consumed all his strength, for he knew he was her only anchor to the Oliat.

As the door closed behind Zannesu, Krinata rose and circled Eithlarin. Jindigar picked up her view of Eithlarin's form– the dark indigo skin almost invisible in the twilight, making it seem as if the soft white robe floated empty over the white circle.

Jindigar lifted the linkages from Venlagar, aware of Krinata's bizarre human conception of the process—the two of them playing cat's cradle with a loop of string. He damped the pattern to prevent his perception of Krinata leaking through to Darllanyu, or anyone else, then passed the links back to his new Inreach, who fumbled a bit.

Then he let himself watch Krinata moving around the circle. She was so well attuned to Phanphihy and the Oliat mat her step left no trace where she passed over the worldcircle. He let the daring thought surface. Could his Oliat have lasted so long and accomplished so much if it hadn't been for Krinata being a solid anchor, as no Dushau could have been on this alien world?

Krinata folded herself gracefully down beside him and commented, //If Eithlarin dies, she'll probably reincarnate—just like I did. Maybe she can be my child.// She reached familiarly for the whule that lay across Jindigar's lap. As he surrendered il she insisted, III didn't just lift Takora's memories from you– and I didn't learn the whule just from your tutoring, either. Jindigar, I remember being Takora. I know what it's like being Center. 1 know what you went through, saving my Oliat– Takora’s Oliat. I know what you're facing now with Eithlarin. I want to help.//

Clumsily she plucked out a melody, her nails rattling lewdly against the strings. She grunted and silenced the sound. //Well, knowing how to do it doesn't mean being able to do it with hands of a totally different design, no more than knowing the Center's job makes me able to Center. Jindigar, please accept that. I was Takora. Or tell me what will convince you.//

Her being the real Takora returned would surely explain the way she evoked a peculiar fear and impossible fascination in him. But most of that could come from her having been Ontarrah. //The simple, obvious explanation isn't always the correct one.//

//Don't quote the Observing Priests at me! I'm trying to tell you that I know you handled Eithlarin correctly. You were slow—and you were clumsy—but that's just lack of experience. Your judgment was sound. And when you could finally make yourself do it—you did the right thing.//

//I didn't know you were aware of what I did. I had the Outreach link choked down pretty tight.//

She sighed and strummed a perfect chord progression. It sent a crawling sensation up his spine, for it was one that Takora had practiced incessantly. //Jindigar—it's awfully hard to explain. Consciously all I remember is that Holot face distorted by an overlay of Dushau perception—your eyes see in so many directions at once, but humans have only one retina per eye. My memories of being Dushau have images that seem normal to my human memory—:but when the Oliat lets me see through Dushau eyes, my brain feels split—and my eyes feel like they've come uncoupled and are looking in opposite directions at the same time—like Dushau eyes.