Sylvan was abruptly angry at himself. If Stella had died, he wouldn’t have expected Marjorie to be interested in lovemaking. Why had he thought she could be interested with Stella gone?
Lost in their separate worlds, neither was given the opportunity to reconcile them. Tony’s voice called from among the glowing alleys. When he came closer they sensed that he and Father James were accompanied by First, by Him. In Marjorie’s mind, the name announced itself. For Sylvan’s benefit she said, “It’s Brother Mainoa’s friend.
“I see,” he said, annoyed. He could barely detect the creatures. He could not hear them. He could not have an hour alone with Marjorie. He could not, seemingly, accomplish anything he desired.
“I think he’s trying to tell me he’s found Stella.” Tony cried. “I can’t be sure. Where’s Brother Mainoa?”
“Here.” The old man leaned from the door of a neighboring house. “Here, Tony. Ah …” He fell silent, one hand stretched toward the foxen like an antenna, feeling for meaning. “Yes,” he said. “Your daughter. They’ve found her.”
“Oh, God,” she cried. It was a prayer. “Is she—?”
“Alive,” he confirmed. “Alive but either asleep or unconscious. They haven’t disturbed her.”
“Shall we get the horses?”
“They suggest, if you have no objection, that they will take you.” Even in this extremity she remained concerned about the horses. “Will we be coming back here?”
Quiet, then Brother Mainoa gesturing. “Yes.” He clutched at some passing pain in his side, shaking his head. “In fact, I think I’ll stay here now, if you don’t mind. You don’t need me for this.”
Father James, with a troubled look at Mainoa, chose to stay with him. The others crept apprehensively upon foxen backs and were carried away through the trees, along walkways and branches, moving away from the tree city into darkness, over moving water, under stars, coming at last to the edge of the forest. Foxen backs were wider than horse’s backs—wider, muscled differently. There seemed to be no limit, no edges to those backs. It was not so much a matter of riding as of being carried, like children sitting upon a slowly rocking table. The message was clear “We won’t let you fall.” After a time, they relaxed and let themselves be transported.
They sensed other foxen meeting them at the edge of the trees and escorting them along the swamp, not far but slow going as they detoured patches of bog and arms of the forest itself. Finally they came to a declivity where water ran, the first stream any of them had seen on Grass. It didn’t run far, only into a wide pool from which it seeped invisibly away. Beside the water Stella lay in a nest of grass, curled up, barefooted, half unclothed, with her thumb in her mouth.
When Marjorie knelt beside Stella and touched her, the girl woke screaming, fighting, saying her own name over and over,”Stella, I’m Stella, Stella,”writhing with such violence that Marjorie was thrust away. Rillibee grabbed the girl, hugged her, held her quiet. After a time the screaming stopped. Rillibee spoke to her softly, calmly. Tony touched her. She twitched, opening her mouth to scream once more. Tony drew back and she quivered but did not scream. She would not tolerate even Sylvan’s touch, and each time Marjorie came near her, she went into frenzied spasms of screaming and weeping, her face contorted with guilt and pain and shame.
Though Rillibee, who was a stranger, could hold her, evidently she could not bear to be near anyone she knew, Marjorie turned away, pained at being rejected, ecstatic to have found her. At least Stella reacted. At least she knew her name. At least she could distinguish between those she knew and those she didn’t. At least she wasn’t like Janetta.
Sylvan laid a caressing hand on her shoulder. “Marjorie.”
She drew herself up, made herself nod, made herself think and speak There was no time for grieving or for pointless agitation. “If the foxen will carry you, I want you to carry her through the forest to Commons. She needs medical care, and the quickest way will be if the foxen can get her there through the trees. You go, Rillibee, because she seems to trust you. Tony, you go to arrange things. I’ll go back to Brother Mainoa and Father James.”