I asked,
"Cold?"
"No, but--I don't believe Evarin is dead, I'm afraid he got away."
For a minute the thought dimmed the luster of the morning. Then I
shrugged. "He's probably buried in that big hole up there." But I knew I
would never be sure.
We walked abreast, my arm around the weary, stumbling woman, and Rakhal
said softly at last, "Like old times."
It wasn't old times, I knew. He would know it too, once his exultation
sobered. I had outgrown my love for intrigue, and I had the feeling this
was Rakhal's last adventure. It was going to take him, as he said, years
to work out the equations for the transmitter. And I had a feeling my
own solid, ordinary desk was going to look good to me in the morning.
But I knew now that I'd never run away from Wolf again. It was my own
beloved sun that was rising. My sister was waiting for me down below,
and I was bringing back her child. My best friend was walking at my
side. What more could a man want?
If the memory of dark, poison-berry eyes was to haunt me in nightmares,
they did not come into the waking world.
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