Elizabeth insists we circle north before we fly back to the cave. "I want you to see Morgan's Hole, where I grew up," she says. She points out a formation of eight hilltops, slightly taller than all the rest in sight. "That's almost in the middle of Cockpit Country."

We soar over the egg-shaped hills and look down upon yet another valley, larger than most but still irregular in its vegetation-choked green terrain. "Why would anyone want to live here?" I ask.

"You told me your father chose an island to live on, for easy defense. My grandfather, Captain Jack Blood, chose to go inland for the same reason. The valley's almost impenetrable. They call it Morgan's Hole because the old reprobate granted it to my family when he was lieutenant governor.

"My father says the English were so glad to have someone willing to live in an area terrorized by the escaped slaves, the Maroons, they hardly asked for a pound in payment. The Maroons, of course, soon learned to keep their distance from us."

I follow Elizabeth as she flies lower. To me, one hill looks like the other, each valley seems a repetition of the one before. I marvel she can find her way. Without her, I'm sure I'd never find our cave again.

"There!" she says, and I look in the direction of her gaze.

In the far corner of the valley, after a series of cultivated fields, set into the side of a hill, almost hidden by an overhang, obscured by two immense, silk cotton trees growing in front of it, a stone house, similar, but larger than the one my father built, looks out over the valley.

"Are we going to visit your family now?" I ask.

"Oh… no… not yet," she says, changing course, flying higher.

"But shouldn't they know about us?"

"They already do."

Of course, I think. I should have realized my family wasn't the only one who could mindspeak over long distances. "And?" I ask.

"Mum is so excited… She's already planning for the feast."

Once again, I feel as if I've arrived in a completely foreign culture. "Feast? "

"Of course," she says. "That's when you'll meet my family-in a few days, when everything's prepared. You'll like them. Pa can be a little fearsome, but I know he'll like you." She laughs. "After all, what choice does he have now?"

She clears a hill by only a few feet, drops into the next valley beyond and I follow close behind, thinking, this is my child bride, my life companion. Amazingly, she's soon to be the mother of my child. I want all these things, accept them completely, but they've come so fast. For a moment, I envy humans with their dating rituals and courtship, their endless confusion between love and lust, their constant conflict between desire and security.

With us it's almost too simple. Sex and procreation. She becomes fertile, gives off her scent and I have to have her. I have her, she conceives and she's mine. No shy glances across a room, no sharing of histories, not even any conversation.

Neither Elizabeth nor I have uttered the word "love." I wonder how she would react if I did. Had another male arrived before me, or killed me in combat-she would be flying alongside him now with equal devotion.

Part of me wishes she were with me for more reasons than that I was the first to service her. But another part revels in the knowledge-now, no other male of the blood can approach her and hope to win her over, not as long as I live.

In our cave, Elizabeth and I curl up on our bed of branches and leaves. "I made it as soon as I came in heat," she says. "I'd already found the cave before… the last time."

"I smelled your scent then-all the way up in Miami."

"I cried when no one came. Mum said not to worry, someone was bound to find me eventually."

As the afternoon sun settles and the day begins its slow journey into night, I tell her about my boat ride south and my quest for her.

"Peter, I'm so glad you're the one who found me," she says before we drift into sleep.

I awake, cold and alone, stare out into the darkness beyond the cave. Without such human things as watches or clocks, I have no way of knowing how long I've slept.

"Elizabeth!" I mindspeak.

No reply comes and I get up and pace about the cave. "Elizabeth, where are you?"

Her reply comes from far off, faint and strained. "I'm hunting. I'll return later. Go back to sleep."

With no light, no book, no television set, I see no other choice. I sigh, settle back into the bed my bride made for me, for us, and think of the logistics of bringing the Grand Banks to Jamaica, worry about Elizabeth's family and the feast and carrying my bride back home… until sleep confuses my thoughts and steals me away.

A child's whimper wakes me. I sit up, stare around the cave, wait until my eyes adjust to the dim moonlit night.

The shadow I recognize as Elizabeth, stands near the mouth of the cave, facing me. Two much smaller shadows lie on the cave's floor in front of her. One moves a little and whimpers again.

"What a great night!" she says. "I flew all the way to Maroon Town and found these two, all by themselves, walking on an old trail… One for each of us. It's such luck, the first night I go hunting to feed my man. "

"Oh, Elizabeth," I say, shaking my head.

She misunderstands the intent of my words, lifts one of the children, a boy, not more than ten years old, kills him with a single slash of her talons, and lays him before me.

I stare at his still small form and sigh.

"Is something wrong?" she asks.

"I don't like to eat their young."

"I don't understand. They're just humans." Elizabeth goes to the other one, another boy, slashes him open too. "If I'd known, I would have brought you an older one, but I'm hungry now, Peter. I can't eat until you do. "

"Why?" I ask.

She shrugs. "It's our way."

I force myself to feed, hating how much I relish the sweet taste of innocent flesh. What I leave, she finishes for me.

Later, she comes to me, lies beside me. "Don't be mad at me, Peter," she says.

"You are what you are," I say to her.

"No, Peter, we are what we are. "

True, I think. I wonder if she'll ever understand how I feel. "You've grown up in one world," I say. "I've grown up in two. Sometimes it's hard for me."

Elizabeth snuggles closer, places her tail across mine, rubs me with it-slow, rhythmic strokes. "Soon you can show me your other world. But," she says, "remember, you're in my world now."

I nod. "But," I say, "when we return to my world, you'll have to learn to be much more careful. Taking children is just too dangerous. Humans are peculiar. They ignore it when others abuse their own kids, but if one disappears, they go crazy looking for it. If they think a child's been killed, they search heaven and earth for the murderer. Even my father, who loved the taste of the young ones, indulged himself very occasionally."

"They're just humans, weak and soft," Elizabeth says. "My Pa never worries about any of them."

"Maybe so," I say. "However, there are millions of them and they have guns and cannons and bombs that even we can't withstand. Here it may be safe for you to be brazen. In Miami, it could cost us our lives."

Frowning, she pulls away from me. "You're just trying to scare me."

How little of the world she knows, I think. I look at her, my young dragoness, remembering what she confessed just this afternoon-she's never finished a book, never seen a movie. "I've never been allowed outside of Cockpit Country," she said. "I've only seen the ocean from high in the air, looking out across the land. It's very blue, I think."

There will be so much I can show her. Her naïveté' strikes me as adorable. I reach toward her. "Oh, Elizabeth," I say. "I never want to scare you. I just don't want anything to ever harm you."