"And?"

"They told me the group doesn't exist," Thrr-pifix-a said, turning back again to face him. "I don't know, Thrr-tulkoj. Maybe Korthe and Dornt don't exist, either. Maybe I'm just going insane."

"Insane, never." Thrr-tulkoj eyed her closely. "Tired, yes. You ought to go take a nap."

"Sounds good to me." She laughed. "It just occurred to me. We were talking so much out there, we completely forgot to fill in that oversized hole you dug. I'd better go do that."

"Oh, I can do it," Thrr-tulkoj volunteered, plucking the trowel from her hand.

"That's silly," Thrr-pifix-a chided, trying to take the trowel back. "You've already cleaned up, and I'm still dirty."

"You're also still tired," he reminded her, swinging his arm up and down, front and back, keeping the trowel out of her reach. "My mess, my responsibility. You go lie down. Or else make us a couple of cups of broth."

"You're impossible," Thrr-pifix-a grumbled. Still, she was just as glad she wasn't going to have to go back out there. Some of the Elders, she'd noted, were still hanging around. "Get going—I'll have the broth ready in five hunbeats."

Thrr-tulkoj headed out the door, closing it behind him. Thrr-pifix-a pulled out the broth pan and set it to heat, wincing with joints and muscles already starting to tighten up. She stepped to the cabinet, realized she hadn't asked what kind of broth Thrr-tulkoj would like, and changed direction instead to the door.

Thrr-tulkoj was kneeling on the ground by the first hole he'd dug, easing a small ceramic box out of it.

Thrr-pifix-a closed the door to a crack. Thrr-tulkoj pulled the box clear of the ground, brushed it off, and carefully slid it into a pouch laid out on the ground.

Thrr-pifix-a closed the door the rest of the way, tail spinning hard behind her. A small box—one she'd never seen before in her life—buried in her garden. What was it? More to the point, why was Thrr-tulkoj so interested in it?

Or even more to the point, why had he lied to her about it?

Because he had lied to her. He hadn't come there to core hydrate her Kyranda bushes at all. He'd come there for that box. What was in it?

There was a way to find out. All she had to do was cross her house, step out the front door, and call one of the Elders. It would be a trivial matter for any of them to take a look inside the box. And then, if matters warranted, to instantly alert the clan and family leaders.

Behind her the broth pan hummed that it was ready... and with the warm, familiar sound all her confusion seemed to fade away. Of course Thrr-tulkoj wouldn't be doing anything illegal out there—the very idea was ludicrous. Whatever the box was, there was surely some perfectly simple explanation for his actions. All she had to do to find out was ask.

She had the broth steeped and steaming in a pair of hand-painted ladling dishes by the time he returned to the kitchen. The pouch, she noted as he washed his hands, was hanging inconspicuously beneath his tunic.

They talked together as they sipped their broth, mostly remembering the past, speaking only sparingly of the present. And when Thrr-tulkoj left a tentharc later, Thrr-pifix-a had still not asked him about the mysterious box.

But perhaps that was for the best, she decided as she washed the ladling dishes and put them up to dry. Sufficient to each fullarc was the trouble therein, as the old saying went. Thrr-pifix-a had had enough trouble in the last few fullarcs to last many a cyclic. So, she suspected, had Thrr-tulkoj.

It seemed a long time before Thrr-tulkoj's voice came to him, hiding in the darkness in the depths of the grayworld. "It's all right. We're clear."

Cautiously, Thrr't-rokik eased his way to the edge of the lightworld. They were indeed out in the open, with the cloud-covered Oaccanv sky rippling overhead. Thrr-pifix-a's house, and Thrr-pifix-a herself, were far behind them. "I thought for a hunbeat there we'd had it," he commented to Thrr-tulkoj. "When I caught her looking out at you with the box in your hands. I'm still amazed she didn't ask about it while you were eating."

"I wish she had," Thrr-tulkoj grunted. "You could have gotten this whole thing out in the open. She's going to find out eventually, you know."

"Only if we succeed," Thrr't-rokik said grimly. "If we don't it'll be better all around that she never knew."

"I still disagree," Thrr-tulkoj said. "In fact, having seen her, I disagree more than ever. She's not just tired, Thrr't-rokik. She's worried and ashamed and frightened. Especially frightened. She knows how much trouble she should still be in, and she knows she has no business being home and free. Eventually, if it hasn't already, it's going to occur to her that some horrible deal must have been made for her release."

Thrr't-rokik flicked his tongue in a grimace. The forced ending of Thrr-gilag's bond-engagement to Klnn-dawan-a... "Horrible enough," he murmured.

"But not nearly as horrible as she's probably imagining," Thrr-tulkoj persisted. "You could ease some of those fears and at the same time let her know you're on her side in this."

Thrr't-rokik looked back toward Thrr-pifix-a's house, now almost hidden behind the vymis tree that grew beside it. "She doesn't want to see me, Thrr-tulkoj. As far as she's concerned, I'm dead and gone. She hates what I've become."

"It's not hate, Thrr't-rokik," Thrr-tulkoj said gently. "It's fear. Fear of the changes that becoming an Elder will bring to her life."

"Perhaps." Thrr't-rokik flicked his tongue ruefully, a distant sadness pulling at him. "It's strange, you know. I don't think there were ten instances in the whole of our life together where I can remember her being afraid of anything. Now it seems that fear may have become the strongest driving force in her life."

"Then go to her," Thrr-tulkoj urged. "Go on, we're still in range. You can heal this chasm that's grown between you—get the two of you back together as husband and wife. This is exactly the kind of crisis that can do that."

For a handful of beats Thrr't-rokik was sorely tempted. To look into Thrr-pifix-a's face again and have her look into his. Not merely to secretly watch and listen as she went about her normal life, but to really be with her.

But no. Thrr-pifix-a didn't want just to speak with him. She wanted him to touch her, and hold her, and embrace her. Wanted things he could never again provide for her.

And if she couldn't have it all, she would have none of it. She'd made that more than clear.

"We can't afford the risk," he told Thrr-tulkoj, turning resolutely away. "Thrr-pifix-a knows she's outside my anchorline range here. If I go to her now, I'll have to explain about that"—he jabbed his tongue at the box riding in Thrr-tulkoj's pouch—"and admit that I've been watching her."

"She'll understand."

"She most certainly will not," Thrr't-rokik retorted. "On the contrary, she's likely to make a three-tentharc stage drama out of the whole thing. And if she does, you can bet it won't be our little secret for long. You saw all those Elders loitering around her house—one wrong word picked up by one wrong ear slit, and clan and family leaders will be falling on us like hailstones."

He looked down at the pouch, tasting the faint memory of a sour flavor beneath his tongue. "And if you think you're in trouble now, just wait and see what happens when they find out I talked you into taking a private cutting from my fsss organ. And then got you to bury it behind Thrr-pifix-a's house."

Thrr-tulkoj flicked his tongue in resignation. "I suppose you're right," he conceded.

"Of course I'm right," Thrr't-rokik said. "And if you're locked up somewhere and I'm stuck at the family shrine, we're not going to be able to find those lying split-tongued illegits who did this to her."