“It’s a glossy,” Dathka said, squatting by her, looking aslant into her face as if puzzled.
“A gossie?” For a moment she wondered if he was trying to be uncharacteristically funny.
“A glossy. They hibernate in the brassimips, where it’s warm. Take it home.”
“Shay Tal and I have seen them west of the river. Hoxneys. That’s what they’re called when they emerge from hibernation.” And what would Shay Tal have thought if …
“Take it,” he repeated. “A present from me.”
“Thank you,” she said, with contempt. She rose, emotions in place again.
She found she had blood on her cheek, where he had stroked her with his cut hand.
The slaves were still hacking away at the monstrous carcass. Laintal Ay had arrived, and was talking to Tanth Ein and Aoz Roon. The latter summoned Dathka vigorously, waving his hand over his head in command. With a resigned look of farewell to Vry, Dathka made off towards the Lord of Embruddock.
The busy things men did were nothing to her. She tucked the glossy between her arm and her shallow bosom and turned downhill towards the distant towers.
When she heard the sound of someone running to catch her up, she said to herself, Well, he’s too late now, but it was Laintal Ay.
“I’ll walk down with you, Vry,” he said. As she remarked, he seemed in a carefree mood.
“I thought you were having trouble with Aoz Roon.”
“Oh, he’s always a bit touchy after a brush with Shay Tal. He’s a great man, really. I’m pleased about the stungebag, too. Now that the weather is warming up, they’re harder to find.”
The children were still romping by the geysers. Laintal Ay admired her glossy, and burst into a snatch of hunter’s song:
“The glossies that sleep
When the snowdrifts are deep
Will wake up to eddre-filling rain,
And then hoxneys will spread
With their high-stepping tread
Across the plain, across the flower-thrilling plain.”
“You are in a good humour! Is Oyre being nice to you?”
“Oyre’s always nice.”
They went their different ways, Vry heading for her ruined tower, where she showed her present to Shay Tal. Shay Tal examined the little crystalline animal.
“It’s not good to eat at this stage of its life. The flesh may be poisonous.”
“I don’t plan to eat it. I want to guard it till it wakes.”
“Life is serious, my dear. We may have to go hungry if Aoz Roon sets himself firmly against us.” She contemplated Vry for a while without speaking, as was increasingly her habit. “I shall fast and defy him. I need no material things. I can be as ruthless with myself as he can be with me.”
“But really he …” Words failed Vry. She could utter no reassurance to the older woman, who continued determinedly.
“As I told you, I have two immediate intentions. First, I shall conduct a scientific experiment to determine my powers. Then I shall descend into the world of the gossies, to hold concourse with Loilanun. She must now know much that I don’t. Depending on what I learn from these things, I may decide to leave Oldorando entirely.”
“Oh, don’t leave, please, ma’am. Are you sure that’s the right thing to do? I’ll go with you if you go, I swear!”
“We’ll see about that. Leave me now, please.”
Feeling deflated, Vry climbed the ladder to her ruinous room. She flung herself down on her couch.
“I want a lover, that’s what I want. A lover … Life’s so empty… .”
But after a while, she roused herself and looked out of the window at the sky, where clouds and birds sailed. At least it was better to be here than in the world below, where Shay Tal planned to go.
She recalled Laintal Ay’s song. The woman who had written the song—if it was a woman—had known that the snow would eventually disappear and that flowers and animals would emerge. Perhaps it would happen.
From her nighttime observations, she knew that there were changes in the sky. The stars were not fessups but fires, fires burning not in rock but air. Imagine a great fire burning in outer darkness. As it came nearer, its warmth would be felt. Perhaps the two sentinels would draw nearer, and warm the world.