“I will,” snapped Zifnab. “There’s only one way out.” He lifted a finger. “Up.”
‘To the stars!” At last it seemed to Lenthan that he understood. He clasped his hands together. “It’s like you said? I lead my people-”
“-forth!” Zifnab carried on enthusiastically. “Out of Egypt! Out of bondage! Across the desert! Pillar of fire-”
“Desert?” Lenthan looked anxious again. “Fire? I thought we were going to the stars?”
“Sorry.” Zifnab appeared distraught. “Wrong script. It’s all these last-minute changes they make in the text. Gets me quite muddled.”
“Of course!” Roland exclaimed. “The ship! To hell with the stars! It will fly us across the Terinthian Ocean. …”
“But not away from the tytans!” struck in the old man testily. “Haven’t you learned anything, child? Wherever you go on land in this world, you will find them. Or rather they will find you. The stars. That is the only place of safety.”
Lenthan stared up into the sun-drenched sky. The bright fights shone steadfastly, serenely, far above blood and terror and death. “I won’t be long, my dear,” he whispered.
Roland plucked Paithan by the sleeve, drew him aside, over to the house, near an open window.
“Look,” he said. “Humor the crazy old geezer. Stars! Pah! Once we get inside that ship, we’ll take it wherever we want to go!”
“You mean we’ll take it wherever that Haplo wants to go.” Paithan shook his head. “He’s strange. I don’t know what to make of him.”
Absorbed in their worries, neither man noticed a delicate white hand lay hold of the window curtain, draw it slightly to one side.
“Yeah, well, neither do I,” Roland admitted. “But-”
“And I don’t want to tangle with him! I saw him knock that tree trunk out of that tytan’s hand like it was nothing but a piece of straw! And I’m worried about my father. The guvnor’s not well. I’m not sure he can make this crazy trip.”
“We don’t have to tangle with Haplo! All right, then we’ll just go wherever he takes us! My bet is he’s not going to be all-fired hot to chase off to the stars.”
“I don’t know. Look, maybe we won’t have to go anywhere. Maybe our army can stop them!”
“Yeah, and maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly up to the stars myself!”
Paithan cast the human a bitter, angry glance and stalked off, moving down to the end of the porch. Standing by himself, he pulled a flower from a hibiscus bush and began ripping the petals apart, moodily tossing them into the yard. Roland, intent on his argument, started to go after him. Rega caught hold of her brother’s arm.
“Let him alone for a little while.”
“Bah, he’s talking nonsense-”
“Roland, don’t you understand? He has to leave all this behind! That’s what’s bothering him.”
“Leave what? A house?”
“His life.”
“You and I didn’t have much trouble doing that.”
“That’s because we’ve always made up our lives as we went along,” said Rega, her face darkening. “But I can remember when we left home, the house where we’d been born.”
“What a dump!” Roland muttered.
“Not to us. We didn’t know any better. I remember that time, the time Mother didn’t come home.” Rega drew near her brother, rested her cheek on his arm. “We waited . . . how long?”
“A cycle or two.” Roland shrugged.
“And there was no food and no money. And you kept making me laugh, so I wouldn’t be frightened.” Rega twined her hand in her brother’s, held it fast. “Then you said, ‘Well, Sis, it’s a big world out there and we’re not seeing any of it cooped up inside this hovel.’ We left then and there. Walked out of the house and into the road and followed it where it led us. But I remember one thing, Roland. I remember you stopping there, on the path, and turning around to look back at the house. And I remember that, when you came back to me, there were tears-”
“I was a kid, then. Paithan’s an adult. Or passes for one. Yeah, all right. I won’t bother him. But I’m getting on board that ship whether he does or not. And what are you going to do if he decides to stay behind?”