As night fell, Maggie and Orick sat talking to Grand-mother. The old woman let the children build a bonfire with branches from the nearby woods, and Grand-mother asked Maggie many questions about her home in Clere.

Maggie told Grandmother of her work in the inn, how she cleaned and scrubbed and cooked all day. She told how her mother died of sickness after giving birth, and of her father and brothers, who had all drowned when their small fishing boat capsized. It seemed to Maggie that Tihrglas was a cold and bitter place, where she had felt cramped, forced into a corner, and as she talked, Maggie realized that she did not want to go back. To live here on Cyannesse, even to live on Fale as a free woman, would be better.

Yet when she finished telling Grandmother about Tihrglas, the old woman smiled and nodded sagely. "We are like you, in that we keep no android servants. This lets us serve one another and take pride in our work. A simple life is best," she said, as if she were agreeing that, yes, life on Tihrglas must be peaceful.

Maggie wanted to growl and scream in the old woman's face, but Orick chimed in with, "Och, well said! I'll drink to that!" and he lifted a goblet of wine in his great paws and poured it down his throat.

The wind was blowing through the trees, and it sounded like the wind that blew through Tihrglas on a summer's night, warm and comforting with the taste of the sea in it. It was the same kind of wind that had lulled Maggie to sleep as a child, and she felt a pang of longing, not for that damned Tihrglas, but for her childhood, for the blissful ignorance she felt before she'd heard of the dronon, and Maggie realized that if she had never heard of the dronon, even if she'd never left home, she would probably have grown old and been content. "Yes," Maggie agreed at last, "a simple life is best."

Veriasse had gone out to look for Gallen and Everynne quite awhile ago, and Maggie was growing worried. Veriasse had said that there were factions who would fight Everynne. Maggie wondered if such factions existed here on Cyannesse, among these seemingly peaceful people.

"I think I'll go look for Gallen," Maggie said, and she went uphill, past the singers who sat around a small fire.

By now the stars were out. A red moon was rising and the ocean had slid in under the city. With the wind, Maggie felt pleasantly cool, and she strained her senses as she entered the woods. She found dozens of trails and had no idea which to take, but soon she found one that led to the railing looking out over the ocean. There were benches by the railing, and a path that followed the rail around the city. Maggie imagined that if she just followed the path, she would find Gallen and the others sitting on some bench, talking quietly.

She grabbed the iron rail and used it as a guide, walking through the forest. At the third intersection to another path, she still had not found Gallen and Veriasse, but just as she was ready to pass, she looked down in the cinnabar moonlight, saw Everynne lying in the grass, dead. Her robe was draped over the body, as if to hide it.

Maggie gave a startled cry, rushed to Everynne's side and pulled off the robe. Everynne was naked. She opened her eyes, looked up.

"What?" Everynne said, sitting up. She looked around in a sleepy daze. "Where's Gallen?"

Maggie could think of nothing to say. Her heart was hammering and her head spun. "You slept with him, didn't you?"

Everynne crawled through the grass, picked up her underclothing and put it on, watched Maggie without saying anything. She began to put on her robe.

"You took him, just because you could!" Maggie said.

"On many worlds," Everynne said, "men and women sleep together whenever they want. It means nothing."

"Yeah," Maggie said. "Well, where I come from, it means something, and you knew that!"

"I didn't want to hurt you," Everynne said.

Hurt me? Maggie wondered. You've crushed me. Maggie found her heart pounding. She didn't know who to be maddest at, Gallen or Everynne, but she knew they were both to blame. "Maybe you didn't want to hurt me," Maggie said. "But you knew that this would hurt me, and you did it anyway. You bought your pleasure by giving me pain. Think about that when you're the Servant of All."

Maggie turned and stormed away.

Maggie did not sleep well that night. She returned to the fire, stayed up late listening to the music of this world while waiting for Gallen, but he didn't return. Veriasse ambled from the woods later. Maggie asked if he had found Gallen. He nodded soberly, saying only, "Gallen and Everynne are talking. They wish to be alone."

When the music ended and the crowds dispersed, Grand-mother conducted Maggie to a large but modestly furnished room, where Maggie bathed in warm water and lay on a soft bed to sleep, with Orick sprawled at her feet.

The longer Gallen and Everynne stayed away together, the more despair tugged at Maggie. She knew she had no claim on Gallen, they weren't promised to one another, yet she could not help but feel stricken to the core. Two years earlier, when Maggie's father and brothers had all drowned, a horrible sense of loss had overwhelmed her. But somehow it was less than what she suffered now. To watch family die caused more grief than Maggie had ever believed she would suffer again.

But when Gallen slept with Everynne, Maggie didn't just grieve from the loss but agonized with the numbing realization that no matter what she did, she could never match up to Everynne. Maggie could love Gallen, serve him, offer everything she was and ever hoped to become, but she wasn't good enough.

Part of her wanted to be angry at Everynne, to hate the woman for stealing Gallen. But the more she thought about it, the less Maggie found that possible. She had been jealous of Everynne from the first. Everynne was beautiful and kind, and in her own way she bore an air of profound loss and loneliness. It was hard for Maggie to resent someone who was in such pain.

A part of Maggie wanted to be angry with Gallen, but she kept reminding herself that he had never promised her anything. In the end, his loving Everynne seemed inevitable.

In the morning, Maggie stayed in bed late, hoping to get some sleep. Orick left for breakfast quietly, then returned.

"Grandmother and Everynne want to see you," Orick said. "They have gifts. Everynne and Veriasse are planning to leave. They want to say goodbye."

Maggie lay on the bed, her eyes gritty from lack of sleep. She could not think straight. "No. I'm not coming."

"Are you sure?" Orick asked. "They have some nice gifts." Maggie's curiosity was piqued, but she didn't want to let it show. "And there's something else. I guess I'd better break the news to you myself. Gallen is going with Everynne and Veriasse."

"He is?" Maggie asked, pulling the covers down so that she could look at Orick. The bear stood on all fours at the head of the bed, his nose only inches from her face so that he could sniff her as he spoke, the way that bears will. She could smell fruit and dirt on his moist breath.

"No, I can't go," Maggie said.

"That's a shame." Orick turned away. "Gallen will be hurt that you didn't say good-bye."

"He doesn't know what it means to hurt," Maggie said.

"Hmmm ..." Orick grumbled. "I suppose you're referring to what happened last night? There's a lot of folks out there giving guilty looks and shuffling their feet. Even a bear can figure out what's going on." Maggie didn't answer. "Och, what are you thinking, girl? Gallen loves you! How can you believe otherwise?"

"He loves Everynne," Maggie said.

"You humans are so narrow!" Orick replied. "He loves you both. Now, if you were a bear, you wouldn't get so all bound up in trivial affairs. You would come into heat, go find some handsome young man if one was available—or an ugly old geezer if nothing better could be had—and you would invite him to perform his favorite duty in life. Then you would be done with it. None of this moaning and moping and wondering if someone loves you."

"And what if someone else wanted your lover?" Maggie asked.

"Why, that's easy!" Orick said. "You wait until he's done, then invite him over. Just because a bear is interested in one female today, doesn't mean he won't want another tomorrow."

Maggie found herself thinking of evolution, such a new concept, yet one her Guide had taught her much about. Human mothers and bear mothers had different needs. A female bear didn't have to spend twenty years raising her cubs the way a human did, and bears ate so much that having a male bear around to compete for food just didn't make sense.

"Of course," Orick offered, "if you're in a hurry to get a lover, you could just go bite the competition on the ass, chase her away."

"I can't do that, either. They're leaving together. Besides, it's not that easy with people."

"Sure it is," Orick said. "If you love Gallen, you'll fight for what you want. Get mad! Oh, hell, what am I talking to you for? Don't you realize that Gallen made his choice long ago when he rescued you from Lord Karthenor?"

Maggie watched the bear trudge away, his belly swaying from side to side. "Stupid people," he grumbled. "Sometimes I don't know why I bother. Maybe I've had things backward. Did my mother tell me to eat sheep and talk to people, or was it eat people and talk to sheep?" He wandered off.

Maggie tossed on the bed, angry at herself. Everynne, Veriasse, and Gallen would be leaving, and there was a strong possibility that they would be killed. Yet Maggie was lying here pouting. She steeled her nerves, threw off her covers.

Outside, the bright morning suns rose in an amber haze. The water had dropped during the night, revealing a vast beach, wet and gleaming. Already, the children were running out over the sand toward the rocky tidal pools to hunt.

Maggie found Gallen and the others just outside her door, sitting on stone benches in the plaza. Grandmother had three airbikes sitting in the open—machines that were all motor and chrome with a set of stabilizing wings both fore and aft. At Grandmother's feet sat several packages wrapped in silver foil.

"Ah, Maggie, I am so glad you made it," Grandmother said, clapping her wrinkled hands. "You are just in time for gifts." The old woman smiled so graciously that Maggie could not help but believe Grandmother took great pleasure in her company. Indeed, they had spoken together for a long time the previous evening, but Maggie had become so distracted afterward that the pleasantness had been driven from her mind.

Grandmother looked through her packages. "First," she said softly, "I have a gift for Lady Everynne, who is already rich beyond anything I can offer. Still, I was thinking last night that you will be going to fight the dronon, who esteem their Golden Queen higher than any other." Maggie looked at the old woman in surprise. She had forgotten that, as a Tharrin, Grandmother had been apprised of Semarritte's plans. "Since you will be our Golden Queen, you must look the part. I have for you some golden clothes and a mantle of gold." She brought out two packages. Everynne unwrapped them.

The outfit included long gloves and boots, stockings and a tunic, all in brilliant gold. The small mantle was made of golden ringlets and fit over her hair. "You will find that the gloves and clothing are very tough," the old woman said. "Almost as tough as symbiotic armor. Often, a dronon queen will defend herself if a Lord Escort chooses to do more than mar her. If you are forced to defend yourself, these clothes will help protect you. In addition, we have bonded a selenium matrix into the fists of the gloves and toes of the boots. A solid blow to a dronon body will let you crack its exoskeleton. "

Everynne thanked Grandmother, and the old woman turned to Veriasse. "For our Lord Protector, I doubt that we have anything on our world that could match the weapons you already bear. And so, I give you a special hope. It is a small thing, but perhaps it will carry you through a dark time." She handed him a small package, and he opened it. The package contained a crystal vial. Veriasse took out the glass stopper.

Immediately a heavenly scent wafted through the air of the open courtyard, and Maggie was filled with such enthusiasm and a boundless sense of strength that she wanted to leap from her seat with a battle cry. Veriasse suddenly seemed to become a younger man—all the cares and worries that so creased his brow melted away. He threw back his head and laughed deep and easy. In that moment, Maggie had no doubt that Veriasse would slay the Lords of the Swarm. He was a powerful man; he could not fail.

Veriasse stoppered the vial, yet Maggie's sense of boundless fervor was slow to diminish. From Maggie's work with the aberlains, she knew that the vial must contain an extract of simple proteins-the chemical components of enthusiasm to act upon the hypothalamus, along with some type of airborne delivery system so that "hope" could be absorbed through the sinus membranes as a person breathed.

And yet, even having some idea how the hope was borne, she couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship inherent in the gift. The artist had combined the hope with some exotic perfume and had probably taken great pains to mix the right proteins so that he could elicit the perfect response.

Grandmother looked over the little group. "For Gallen, the Lady Everynne has asked a special thing. He once asked for eternal life in return for his service. And even though he rescinded his request, he has more than earned his reward. She would like to begin payment." She lifted a small packet from the ground, handed it to Gallen. "Inside, you will find six tablets containing a full set of nanodoctors. They will help heal your wounds, slow your aging, cure all ills. You have only to swallow the tablets. You will not be immortal, of course. You can be killed. But before you leave here today, we will take a template of your intellect and gather gene specimens. Then, if you should die, we can build you again."