went on with the Mole to the corridor’s far end. There, after a
reassuring nod, the Mole slipped past them through the door
and was gone.
The Valeman and the girl sat across from each other, close
against the door. Par glanced back down the dimly lighted cor-
ridor to make certain that Coil was in sight. His brother’s rough
face lifted briefly, and Par gave a cursory wave. Coil waved
back.
They sat in silence then, waiting. The minutes passed and the
Mole did not return.
Par grew uneasy. He edged closer to Damson. “Do you think
he is all right?” he asked in a whisper.
She nodded without speaking.
Par sat back again, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
“I hate waiting like this.”
She made no response. Her head tilted back against the wall
and her eyes closed. She remained like that for a long time. Par
thought she might be sleeping. He looked down the corridor
again at Coil, found him exactly as he had left him, and turned
back to Damson. Her eyes were open, and she was looking at
him.
“Would you like me to tell you something about myself that
no one else knows?” she asked quietly.
He studied her face wordlessly-her fine, even features, so
intense now, her emerald eyes and pale skin shadowed under
the sweep of her red hair. He found her beautiful and enigmatic,
and he wanted to know everything about her.
“Yes,” he replied.
She moved over until their shoulders were touching. She
glanced at him briefly, then looked away. He waited.
“When you tell someone a secret about yourself, it is like
giving a part of yourself away,” she said. “It is a gift, but it is
worth much more than something you buy. I don’t tell many
people things about myself. I think it is because I have never
had much besides myself, and I don’t want to give what little I
have away.”
She looked down and her hair spilled forward, veiling her
face so that he couldn’t see it clearly. “But I want to give some-
thing to you. I feel close to you. I have from the very beginning,
from that first day in the park. Maybe it is because we have the
magic in common-we share that. Maybe that is what makes
me feel we’re alike. Your magic is different from mine, but that
doesn’t matter. What matters is that using the magic is how we
live. It is what we are. Magic gives us our identity.”
She paused, and he thought she might be waiting for a re-
sponse, so he nodded. He could not tell if she saw the nod or
not.
She sighed. “Well, I like you. Elf-boy. You are stubborn and
determined, and sometimes you don’t take notice of anything or
anyone around you-only of yourself. But I am like that, too.
Maybe that is how we keep ourselves from becoming exactly
like everyone else. Maybe it is how we survive.”
She paused, then faced him. “I was thinking that if I were to
die, I would want to leave something of myself with you, some-
thing that only you would have. Something special.”
Par started to protest, but she put her fingers quickly against
his mouth. “Just let me finish. I am not saying that I think I will
die, but it is surely possible. So perhaps telling you this secret
will protect me against it, like a talisman, and keep me safe
from harm. Do you see?”
His mouth tightened and she took her fingers away “Do you
remember when I first told you about myself, that night you
escaped from the Federation watch after the others were cap-
tured? I was trying to convince you that I was not your betrayer
We told ourselves some things about each other. You told me
about the magic, about how it worked. Do you remember?”
He nodded. “You told me that you were orphaned when you
were eight, that the Federation was responsible.”
She drew her knees up like a child. “I told you that my family
died in a fire set by Federation Seekers after it was discovered