“We must proceed north along the shore,” Erafnais said, “then on past Yebèisk to the island city of sea-girt Ikhalmenets.”

“Would impertinence be assumed if I asked the commander to point out warm-beached Yebèisk when we are close?”

“Communication will be made.”

Another two days passed before they came to the city. Vaintè was also interested in Yebèisk and stood at the far end of the fin while Erafnais and Enge remained at the other. It was late afternoon when they passed the high trees, the golden curve of the sands on each of the city’s flanks, the tiny forms of the fishing boats returning with the day’s catch. Surprisingly, after all her earlier curiosity, Enge showed scarcely any interest at all. After one long glance she signed her gratitude for information and went below. Vaintè permitted herself a spasmodic glare of hatred as she passed, then stared back at the shore.

In the morning she listened as a crewmember addressed the commander, and could not control the tremors of anger that shook her body. She should have known — should have known.

“They are gone, Erafnais, all five of them. I saw their sleeping positions vacated when I awoke. They are not here in the uruketo or in the fin.”

“Nothing was seen?”

“Nothing. It was my duty to awaken first this day to take the guiding position. It is a mystery…”

“No it is not!” Vaintè cried aloud and they drew back from her. “The only mystery is why I did not see what was going to happen. They know that no good will come to them in the bold city of Ikhalmenets . They seek hiding places in Yebèisk. Turn about, Erafnais, and go there at once.”

There was command in Vaintè’s voice, authority in the stance of her body. Yet Erafnais made no move to obey, instead stood in immobile silence. The watching, listening crewmembers were rigid, each with an eye turned toward one of the speakers. Vaintè signed urgency and obedience and wrath, hovering like a destructive thundercloud over the smaller commander. Bentback, dragfoot Erafnais.

With a will of her own. She had had more than a hint of the motives involved here. Enge had been kind to her and never offended her — while she knew little of the Daughters of Life, cared even less. What she did know was that there had been enough killing. And it was obvious that death lay behind every one of Vaintè’s venomous movements.

“We will proceed. We will not turn back. Dismissal of presence from commander to passenger.”

Then she turned about and walked away, letting her limp muffle the positions of pleasure and superiority in her body movements.

Vaintè was rigid with anger, paralyzed by impotence. She did not command here — did not command anywhere echoed back darkly from her thoughts — nor could she use violence. The crewmembers would not permit that. She was locked in a silent, internal battle with her anger. Logic must rule; cold thought must vanquish. The inescapable fact was that there was absolutely nothing that could be done at the present time. Enge and her followers had escaped from her for the moment. That was of no importance. In the fullness of time they would meet again and instant justice would follow. Nor could anything be done now about the commander of the uruketo. These things were all too petty to be considered. What she should be thinking about was the riverine city of Mesekei and the important tasks that must be undertaken there. If she were to achieve her ends careful planning would be needed, not mindless anger. For all of her life she had kept her anger carefully in check and she wondered now at the newfound strength of it. It was the ustuzou that had done that, destroyed her calm and turned her into a creature of intemperate justice. Kerrick and his ustuzou had made her like this. It would not be forgotten. In the future her anger would be kept under control at all times, for all things. Except one. Hatred treasured was hatred that grew strong in a hidden place. One day to be released.

With the working of these thoughts the tension eased and her body was hers again. She looked around and found that she was alone. Erafnais was in the fin above with the crewmembers who were on duty; the rest were comatose and asleep. Vaintè looked toward the place where Enge and her followers had slept and it was just an empty area that meant nothing to her. This was as it should be. She was back in control of her body and her emotions again. There was a movement in the darkness beyond and she could clearly hear the sounds of communication-desired. Only then did she remember the presence of the fat scientist and the male. She approached them.

“Aid a helpless male creature, great Vaintè,” the captive pleaded, squirming in Akotolp’s unyielding grasp.

“I know you from the hanalè,” Vaintè said, amused by the thing’s mewling. “You are Esetta‹ who sings — are you not?”

“Vaintè is first-always because she recalls the name of everything, smallest to highest. But now miserable Esetta‹ has nothing to sing of. The heavy one who now holds me, she pulled me from the hanalè, dragged me through smells and fog that hurt my breathing, half-drowned me on the way to this uruketo, now holds me in her unbreakable grip of great pain. Speak with her I entreat, suggest she release me before death of arm.”

“Why aren’t you dead completely?” Vaintè asked with brutal candor. Esetta‹ recoiled and squealed.

“Oh, great Vaintè — why do you wish this one of no importance dead?”

“I do not, but all the others died. Brave Yilanè of Alpèasak. Cast out by their dead city to die with it.”

Even as she spoke Vaintè felt the crushing wave of fear. They were dead — not she. Why? She had told loyal-dead Stallan that this was because of their hatred of the ustuzou. Was it? Was that reason enough to stay alive when all others died? She looked at Akotolp as these dark thoughts embraced her and realized for the first time what the scientist was experiencing. Doubt-in-life, avoidance-of-death. Akotolp had labored in many cities, so felt no life-destroying loyalty to any single one. But she was scientist enough to know that the death of rejection could be triggered in an instant. That was what her rigid, silent battle was about. By the force of her will she was keeping herself among the living.

This knowledge was a flow of strength to Vaintè. If this fat one could live by will alone then she, with an eistaa’s strength of will could live, survive — and rule once more. Nothing was beyond her!

Before the unseeing eyes of Akotolp, the fear-filled eyes of the male, Vaintè raised clenched thumbs in a forceful gesture of victory, trod strongly with outstretched claws upon the resilient surface. A moan of fear penetrated her consciousness and she looked down with growing pleasure at the cowering Esetta‹: desire came instantly.

She bent and her strong thumbs pried loose the scientist’s grip on the male’s wrist. His repeated sounds of gratitude changed quickly to moans as she pressed him over backward, painfully excited him, mounted him brutally.

Akotolp’s tight-locked muscles never relaxed — but her nearest eye moved slowly to gaze at the entwined couple. Even more slowly her stiff features moved with unreadable expressions.

After this Vaintè welcomed deep sleep, slept comatose until the following morning. When she awoke the first thing that she saw was the fat scientist climbing breathlessly up into the fin. Vaintè looked around but did not see the male; hiding from her without doubt. She moved slightly with humor at the thought, then found herself awake, excited by thought of Esetta‹. The uruketo rolled as it encountered a large wave and a shaft of bright sunlight from the fin illuminated the interior. The sun looked warm and attractive and Vaintè came fully awake, standing, yawning and stretching. The sunlight drew her on and she went to the fin, climbed slowly up to its top. Akotolp stood there, her eyes in the bright sunshine mere vertical slits in her round face. She glanced at Vaintè and acknowledged grateful presence.