“Lissop, starls, batwing…” Blodwed named them all. “I guess I even know what’s wrong with those,” pointing. “I don’t have the right food.” Her face pulled down. “But you did good,” encouraging again. She held the cub close. “Didn’t she, Blue?”

Gundhalinu smiled, grudgingly, and made a salute. “A noble—” He broke off.

Three pairs of eyes looked up together at the sound of someone else entering the passageway. The gate swung open, and a bearded, heavy-faced man entered. The animals shrank back along the walls.

“What do you want, Taryd Roh?” The surliness was back in Blodwed’s voice.

“The shaman wants this fixed.” He held out a fragile-looking instrument that Moon did not recognize. “Tell the Tech there to get started earning his keep.”

“He’s too sick.” Blodwed stuck out her chin.

“He’s alive,” Taryd Roh grinned, swiveling his gaze to Moon. “And this pretty little doll you brought him would put life back in the dead. How’d you like to visit my tent, little sibyl?” A rough hand brushed her bruised cheek, hurting her.

Moon backed away, filled with disgust. He laughed and went on past her.

“Listen, Turd,” Blodwed said, “you keep away from her! She really has the power—”

He sneered. “Then what’s she doing here? You don’t believe that superstitious crap, do you, Tech?” He set the broken instrument down in front of Gundhalinu, and a set of tools. “Just don’t have too much fun. Because if this isn’t working by tomorrow, I’ll make you eat it.” He flicked the tarnished insignia on Gundhalinu’s collar; Moon saw Gundhalinu’s thin face go gray and slack.

Taryd Roh turned away from him, strolled back across the chamber to the gate like a killer skule moving through a fish trap.

Blodwed threw an obscene hand-sign after his retreating back. “Gods, I hate him, that bastard!” She winced as the elf fox pup woke inside her jacket, squirming and scratching. “He thinks he’s the Prime Minister or something, just because he’s Ma’s favorite. He’s been to Carbuncle, and he’s crazy too — that’s why she likes him so much.”

Moon watched Gundhalinu stretch out on the cot, moving like an aged cripple, and turn his face to the wall. She said nothing.

Blodwed pulled the wriggling cub out of her parka and thrust it back into its cage, almost angrily. Moon felt Blodwed search the room with her eyes for something that had disappeared; she kept her own eyes on Gundhalinu. Blodwed dragged the babbling baby to his feet and went out the gate, leaving them to smother in silence.

Moon made her way through the heaviness of the air to Gundhalinu’s side, kneeled down. “BZ?” Knowing that he did not want her to ask, knowing that she had to. She touched his shoulder. She felt the trembling of his body even through his heavy coat. “BZ…”

“Leave me alone.”

“No.”

“I’m not one of her animals, for gods’ sakes!”

“Neither am I. Don’t shut me away!” Her fingers dug into his ] arm, forcing him to acknowledge her.

He rolled onto his back, lay staring up at her with bleak eyes. ‘ “And I didn’t think things could get any worse.”

Moon looked down, nodded. “Then maybe they’ll start getting I better.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head. “Don’t tell me there’s going to be a ‘ future. Just facing tomorrow is all I can stand.”

She saw the broken instrument that Taryd Roh had left for him I on the ground beside her knee. “You can’t fix this?”

“Blindfolded,” with a broken smile. He lifted his hand. “If I had ‘ll two good hands. But I don’t.”

“You have three.” Moon clasped his hand like a pledge.

He brought his other hand up, laid it clumsily over hers. “I thank you.” He took a long breath, and sat up. “Taryd Roh…” he swallowed. “Taryd Roh caught me re circuiting Blodwed’s radio. After he’d finished working me over, I couldn’t walk for two days. And gods, he enjoyed it.” He ran his hand through his hair; Moon saw it tremble again. “I don’t know what he did while he was in the city — but he was good at it.”

Moon shuddered, wiped the memory of Taryd Roh’s touch from her face. “Is that — why?” She glanced at his hands, his scarred wrists.

“Everything! Everything was why.” He shook his head. “I’m a highborn, a Tech, a Kharemoughi! To be treated like a slave by these savages — worse than a slave! No one with any pride would go on living that way: without honor, without hope. So I tried to do the only honorable thing.” He said it with perfect evenness. “But Blodwed found me, before it was — finished.”

“She saved you?”

“Of course.” Moon heard hatred in it. “What’s the point in humiliating a corpse?” He looked down at his useless hand. “A cripple, though… I stopped eating; until she told me shed let Taryd Roh feed me. Fifteen minutes and he could have me eating shit.” He tried to get up, fell back onto the cot, coughing until his eyes ran. “And then there was the storm—” He spread his hands helplessly, as though he wanted her to know how hard he had tried to do the right thing.

Afraid that she did understand, she only said, “And now?”

“And now everything’s changed. I… have to think about someone besides myself again.” She didn’t know whether he was glad, or only resentful.

“I’m glad you failed.” She looked down. “We’ll get out of here, BZ. I know we will.” It isn’t finished. Suddenly certain of it again.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter to me any more. It’s too late, I’ve been here too long.” He lifted her chin with his fingers. “But for your sake, I’ll hope.”

“It isn’t too late.”

“You don’t understand.” He pulled at the seal of his uniform coat. “I’ve been here for months, it’s all over! The Festival, the Change, the final departure… everyone’s gone off world by now, they’ve left me behind. Forever.” His gaunt face twitched. ““In dreams I hear my homeland to me call; and I cannot answer…”“

“But they haven’t! It hasn’t happened yet.”

He gaped as though she had struck him. He pulled her up onto the cot beside him, almost shaking her. “Truly? How long? How long? Oh, gods, tell me it’s true!”

“It is,” breathlessly, stumbling. “But I don’t know h-how long I mean, I’m not sure… a week or two, I think, until the celebrations.”

“A week?” He let her go, slumping back against the wall. “Moon. Damn you, I don’t know whether you’re heaven or hell: a week.” He rubbed his hand across his mouth. “But I think you’re heaven.” He embraced her, briefly, chastely, his face averted.

She lifted her hands as he pulled away, clung to him with sudden gratitude. “No, don’t. A little longer. Please, BZ; I need a little longer… Hold me just for now.” Until everything isn’t drowning in ugliness. Until I believe in hope, and feel his arms holding me again…

Gundhalinu stiffened with surprise and a strange reluctance. But his arms circled her, almost mechanically, and pulled her to him again, sheltering her, answering her.

So long… remembering Sparks’s tender hands as though it had been only yesterday… it’s been so long. She rested her head on his shoulder, let herself dissolve, mindless, timeless, against the solidness of his flesh; let it give substance to the phantom of another flesh, and strike the chains of bitter knowledge from the future. After a time she felt Gundhalinu’s arms tighten, felt his breathing change; felt her own heartbeat quicken unexpectedly with answering emotion.

“Wilt thou… to me in Sandhi sometimes talk?” hesitantly.

“Yes.” She smiled against his sleeve. “Though I — do not it well speak…”

“I know. Thy accent is terrible.” He laughed softly.

“So is thine!” She felt his head rest on her own shoulder; she rubbed his back with slow, peaceful motions, heard him sigh. Gradually his arms loosened and fell away from her; she felt his breathing change again. She lifted her head, saw his face half smiling, asleep beside her own. She lowered him carefully onto the cot, lifted his legs up and covered him with blankets. She kissed him gently on the mouth, and went to her own pad on the floor.