"Of course,'\he agreed. "And I'll decide which ones I take. My decisions limit your options; yours limit mine. That's what Grisnilter wanted me to avoid with ephemerals."

Grisnilter, the elderly Dushau Historian whose Archive Jindigar carried, had objected to Jindigar's policy of befriending ephemerals, just as Frey did. "Jindigar, how would a group of Dushau deal with a Loop? What is the cure?"

"To convene an Aliom grieving-with to grieve Desdinda," he answered as if it were obvious. "But, it's not my area of expertise. I'd have to farfetch for what else I might know, and I don't dare attempt that."

"For fear of being caught in the Archive?"

"Or worse."

The Aliom science behind the Oliat practices was a mystery to her, but—"I'd be willing to try it, but I can't find it in myself to be sorry Desdinda died. I do feel a personal sense of horror that my hand killed her. I still have nightmares about it."

"We all do, but we dare not attempt anything involving you and Desdinda until we've a stable base camp and the duad can be spared. Also, there's the problem of the Archive to solve first, or we all might be lost in it before the Desdinda Loop could be integrated into your personality." "Integrated into—oh, no, she's not part of me—" He said, as if grasping why they weren't communicating, "Desdinda had dedicated her life to murdering me because I, an Aliom Priest turned Invert, had custody of Grisnilter's Archive. She'd been taught how Inversion distorts an Archive—altering the recorded history of our species. When she saw she was to die, she already felt so soiled, she had no use for life except to kill me. Her outrage became the core of her insanity, and I believe it grounded into a part of your personality that harbored similar feelings." "You mean—like a—a ghost? Possessing me?" "No. There's never been a Dushau ghost—can't be. Desdinda is gone to dissolution/death. She's left us a legacy of compressed anger and hatred lodged in you because I had no time to train you to protect yourself or to prove the Archive had come through our triad Inversion unscathed." Three times since their escape she'd Inverted the triad. "Have—have I damaged the Archive?"

"I don't think so. But I hardly dare touch the duad now, and Frey knows it. With his limited training he knows he might accidentally damage the Archive, and now that he carries the Invert stigma, too, delivering the Archive unaltered means as much to him as to me."

"It should have meant as much to Desdinda too." "She wasn't rational. Yet we're bound by her pain—and won't be free until we can grieve it. We must each feel how she felt, and why she felt so, finding the resonances of those feelings within ourselves and integrating them. But we can't try it now because we've no idea what complications your humanity might cause. The Squadron will find Truth soon, and we're still too close for safety."

Krinata had to accept that. Jindigar could do nothing to help her expunge Desdinda, yet it had to be done. So, she'd have to do it herself, in her human way. She probed him mercilessly on the characteristics of a Loop, learning that it took very little resonance to provide a rooting point—as it took very little to attract lightning. She didn't hate Jindigar, not even unconsciously. But there had to be something Desdinda's hatred had touched. If she could rid herself of it, the Loop would dissipate—or so theory said. In practice, Dushau never attempted such things alone. But then, humans didn't practice group telepathy, either!

At dawn they were up and in harness, Jindigar moving among them as his normal self, twittering to the children and the piols, summoning joy in a piece of fruit, or casually hanging by his toes to inspect the underside of a sled. But she saw the weary depression he masked from the others. He hasn't grieved for his friends yet. I must see that he does soon or he'll collapse. It could be centuries until a Historian arrives to take the Archive from him. There was nothing she could do about that, but Desdinda—

As they marched she mulled over the problem and became ever more determined to vanquish Desdinda herself.

They skirted dense thickets and plowed through sparser ones, tromping up and down the ever-rising hills. Krinata was paired with Shorwh, his two brothers riding atop her sled, clutching the piols in an unnatural silence. Shorwh was now the only one, except Jindigar, who could speak to the children. While they seemed to be in shock, Shorwh was withdrawn the way an adult might be. But he ate, fed his brothers, and pulled his load without slacking.

During the first rest break she tried to take her mind off her troubles by tending the children. Terab, huge, six-limbed, warm and furry, also tried to mother them. But neither soft-skinned human nor furred Holot could begin to replace a mother's smooth chitin for the Cassrian children. When Shorwh said, fretting, "Why don't you both just leave us alone?" Terab withdrew, but Krinata went after her.

"I don't think he really means that," she said to Terab.

"Neither do I. A Holot wouldn't. But I thought perhaps Irnils might try to get through to him, male to male."

"It's worth a try," agreed Krinata.

Irnils, Terab's mate, had lost his parents early in life, and when he sat down among the orphaned Cassrians, somehow, gradually, the atmosphere lightened. The four Lehiroh, as usual, spent the rest break sitting in a close circle, talking softly about then– lost bride. Krinata left them to their grieving. The four humans provoked heated political conversations among the Holot and Cassrians, seeming innocent enough until one time Terab came on them cornering Shorwh with a diatribe against Jindigar.

Seeing her, they turned to go, but she commanded, "Hold orbit there!" Even weaponless, she intimidated them. "You never knew Jindigar before you boarded Truth, but surely you've measured him by now. He got us across that desert, which could have been a challenge to a full Oliat. Riding the water sled, he damn near got killed, but he saved our water. He's told us how to keep out of trouble, and even when one of your women stupidly ignored him, he didn't hold a trial—so the children wouldn't blame her.

"Jindigar never shirks a risk or stints on compassion for Dushau or ephemeral. He's loyal beyond reason, generous in soul and goods, a Prince of his people—"

'Terab," said Gibson, shoulders hunched more than usual. "Aristocrats ruined the Allegiancy—" He looked at Krinata, who was almost as highborn as Jindigar, spat, and left.

They fell in for the afternoon haul, and she returned to ruminating on her feelings for Jindigar. He'd won her respect as he had Terab's. She'd never seen him do a mean or dishonest deed. But she didn't understand his motives, so every once in a while, he failed to do what she expected of him. That hardly seemed cause for a repressed hatred.

Jindigar, knowing they were all getting into condition, lengthened the time between breaks, so Krinata had no more energy for her thoughts until they emerged from an open wood into magenta sunlight at the lip of a valley.

Erect dead trees, truncated limbs jutting in every direction, filled the valley, surrounded by glittering black-and-gray soil. But it was not a bleak sight, for from every limb hung bright translucent globes of rainbow hues.

Flying creatures with handsome wings covered with transparent shell-like flakes the same colors as the suspended hives flocked around their homes. Wings folded, they resembled beetles—flat, multilegged. Alone or in swarms, they darted info the woods that bordered the valley.

Jindigar called a break, climbing up to bring the two younger children down, twittering to them as he pointed at the valley. It elicited the first response since their mother had died. As the Lehiroh spread a canopy over the circled sleds, Jindigar warned everyone to stay under cover, explaining, "Those creatures made a forest like this into that. Then– body waste kills trees and animals. If we do nothing to anger them when they fly over us, they may provide us our dinner." When he'd translated for the children, they both climbed into his lap and fell asleep with their heads on his shoulders. Shorwh embraced Jindigar around the neck. "Now they know they're not alone and don't have to die too."