SPINEL LEAPED OUT of the boat and tied it to a post at the former traders' raft. Lystra followed, warily. Ahead of them rose the moon-ferry, with the same old creased fins and crackled insignia. Spinel had the feeling it was bound to collapse after just one more trip.
Captain Dak looked much the same, several days unshaven, his brow etched with deep herringbone wrinkles that belied his easy grin. His breath came sour, and he was sure to have a bottle hidden away somewhere.
“Hey there, Dak; how's business?”
Dak's jaw shifted sideways. “It wouldn't be half bad, if I'd earned a pension from ten thousand years of service. And yourself, starling?”
“Oh, all right. Listen, how much would a pair of tickets come to, one-way?”
“The same as alwaysâand there's none but one-way.” His body shook with laughter, then abruptly he was serious again. “Might I ask who they're for?”
“Why, us, of course. You know Lystra, don't you?” Spinel put his arm around her. “Lystra the Intemperate One.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma'am. Uh”âDak kneaded his bristly chinâ“no offense, but you folks do plan to put something on, don't you?”
“Well ⦠I guess we figured we could get clothes when we reach Valedon.” Spinel looked uncertainly at Lystra, whose frown was thick with distaste.
Dak waved his hand dismissively. “I can scrounge up an old shirt for you.”
“Gee, Dak, thanks a lot.”
“I don't know what for. I'm ferrying you to certain death.”
Spinel stared at him.
“Don't you have
ears,
starling? Haven't you heard how it is? Valans don't want the least thing to do with catfish anymore. They'll shoot you on sight.”
Spinel put his hands at his hips. “You can't scare us, Dak; we know all about it. We just won a war.”
“Then why start another? Listen: maybe you could make it back, if you clear up that skin of yours, but your lady friend can forget it. Not another passenger would even board my ship with her on it.”
“What?” Spinel's mouth hung open with dismay. “That's outrageous.”
“It's plain fact.” Dak lowered his voice sympathetically. “Starling, of all the planets I've known, you're standing on the coziest one right now, do you hear? The only one free of the Patriarch. Whatever do you want to
leave
for?”
“We can't ever be safe here, not so long as Valans are all out there.”
“And you aim to set them straight, is that it?” Dak nodded. “And once that's settled, you'll move on to Arcturon, and Sol-Rex, and even Torr itself, I suppose.”
“Well ⦔
“You'll never be âsafe' otherwise,” Dak assured him. “The whole universe'll blow up, anyhow, in another hundred billion years; you plan to solve that one too?”
“You got to start somewhere.”
Dak shook his head. “A fool shares gold with strangers. Look.” He thumbed at the door of his ship.
“I'm
still available to whoever wants the Ocean Moon. It takes two to âshare learning,' starling.”
“And one to start ⦠.” He turned to Lystraâ
She was gone.
The bundle of herbs and medicines for the ferry ticket sat on the raft, but Lystra's craft was a dark shape shrinking across the sea behind her glider squid.
“Lystra!”
Spinel's cry set off a flock of clickflies swirling in surprise, but Lystra was too far away to hear. He skipped back to the edge of the dock and stood there, dazed.
Lystra had left him alone. Alone to think it out, for the last time, and here he was stumbling through it. Was Dak right, after all? Why had Spinel left Chrysoport the second time, if not because his own people stopped their ears to what he tried to share?
Patience ⦠he had more of that, now, but still infinitely less than the Impatient One.
Lystra's craft sped on, and his heart strained after it, taut as the harness of the glider squid. Could he bear to stay here, a freak for the rest of his life? What did that matter, if Lystra would carry a child in whose veins his own blood swam?
With a sudden thought, he reached into his package for the seashell that Nisi had given him. Then he walked back toward Dak. “You know, if you think it's so great here, why not come back after your last trip? You're more than welcome on Raia-el.”
“Who, me?” Dak's voice deepened. “I'm too old, starling. Seen too many planets come and go.”
“Shora is even older than you are.”
“I'm too young, then. Too young to settle down.” His grin twisted.
Spinel smiled sadly, knowing that the old man was sure to end his days planet-bound, one way or another. “Just don't say I never asked. Could you do me one last favor?” He handed Dak the whorlshell. “Send this to that Commander, the one who got sent back to Sardis. Tell him it's from Berenice, who still loves him.”
Dak blinked. “Whatever you say, starling.”
There, he was quits now; and who could say what might come of it? “And if you're ever in. Chrysoport, Dak, you can tell themâ” His throat ached too much to swallow. “Just tell them the door is still open.” Spinel hugged Dak hard, and the man's stubble scraped his cheek. Then he spun around, sprinted to the water's edge, and dove, his starstone dancing on the chain as his body knifed the waves. He
plowed outward, fast as he could swim, his head lifting every few minutes to spot the speck of Lystra in the distance, where a friendly fanwing dipped and soared overhead like a hand beckoning, Come, lovesharer, come home.