'It is our way,' Ponzar said. 'Without the pilot to guide them, their lives are as lost. The bounds will be broken. There will be no resonances. It is for few others that they can manipulate the stones.'
'It seems to me that the last thing you would want to do is rid yourself of the only talent that has any hope of reversing your direction.'
'We will hold trials for another pilot. Although, even if we find one in those who remain, it will little matter, Our flight is swift. There are no other lithons nearby.'
'How can you be so calm?' Jemidon growled. 'Your very life is in peril. This may be your last soar across the sky. Why are you not straining to invent a scheme, some plan that will save us all?'
'It is the way of the great right hand,' Ponzar said softiy. 'Valdroz wanted us repulsed after he had plundered our harvest. But I do not believe that he would want us to be pushed where the air hangs foul. No, we must have been touched by the great right hand as well. Life is repetition, but Skyskirr do not fly forever. For each comes the time when the tugging lithons are far away and the drift leads without change to the walls. For this small stone, that time is now, and we must accept. Our duty is to give our fellows the pleasure of the feast before it is too late to be enjoyed.'
The captain eyed Jemidon speculatively. 'And as to your own marrow. We have treated you well. Better than some of the other lithons might. It would be to your honor if you do not wait before offering yourself and the female for the benefit of the rest.'
Jemidon instinctively drew his arms back to his chest. 'I am not Delia's owner,' he said. 'Any more than you are of me. She will decide in her own mind how she will face the end, if it is to come.'
Ponzar closed his eyes for a moment and then pointed with his shovel at the speck in the distance. 'The question is not if, but when,' he said. 'Make peace with the great right hand in your own 'hedron. We would prefer your gift freely given, but will not wait long for it.'
Jemidon scowled and turned his back. The helplessness of their situation tore through him like stinging acid. More time had slipped through his fingers. Now it was possibly too late for his own world. He looked again at the growing cloud of dull brown. And soon it also would no longer matter here. Not only was he to fail once again, but in a strange universe, far from home, unmourned, and his body mutilated by fatalistic ghouls.
He heard Utothaz cry in discomfort and clutched at the brandel around his neck. Ponzar had refused to tell him more of metamagic, even after the treachery of Valdroz's floater. In total isolation from the rest of the Skyskirr, the captain still was taking no chances regarding Melizar and his suspected return.
Jemidon felt the battered coinchanger at his waist and idly fingered a dozen coins into his palm. Looking down at the mixture of metal, he smiled ruefully. Benedict's puzzle of the twenty-five mixed coins was probably the only conundrum he would solve-a meaningless pastime instead of the foundation of the universal laws. He looked back into the sky and shrugged. A child's puzzle or keystone to the universes. In the end, was either more important than the other?
A hacking cough at his side broke Jemidon out of his reverie. He turned to see Delia leaning against the safety rope and clutching her other fist to her chest. Her skin was pale. Her golden hair hung in limp snarls. Deep wrinkles had appeared under her eyes, and her cheekbones cut sharp angles in her face.
'The air affects you more than the rest,' Jemidon said softly. 'You should remain in one of the caverns. Perhaps we can rig up a seal so that the most foul will not as readily mix.'
Delia snapped closed her lips and tried to gain control of her spasms. She settled slowly to the rock surface and motioned Jemidon to follow, 'It is so cold,' she muttered. 'So cold. I wonder which of the perils will get me first.'
'Do not talk that way,' Jemidon said. 'I have not given up, like Ponzar and the rest. Perhaps some other pilot will change the laws in a way that will repulse us from this outgassing lithon. Perhaps we wilt manage to sail on through to greater possibilities beyond.'
He pounded his fist into his palm. 'If only I had the wit to master wizardry! Even an imp might give us more resource than we have now.'
Delia managed a wan smile. 'You have saved me twice,' she said. 'I have no right to expect more. And if it is to proceed to an end, I could have done far worse than to share it with one such as you.'
Jemidon looked into Delia's eyes and drew her close. A few times before, they had huddled together for warmth. But this time she melted into his arms in a way that he knew was different. The passion that he had held in check since the rebuff in Farnel's hut flamed anew.
'You are not without virtue yourself,' he said thickly. 'A gambler in the markets of Pluton. the organizer of Farnel's presentation, a survivor of the confines of Drandor's tent, the seducer of a rockbubbler sprite.
'That is another part of the mystery.' Jemidon paused for a moment. 'I had put it out of my mind. How could you possibly get the demon to do as you commanded? He was bound to one of Melizar's manipulants. A master he already possessed. Perhaps wizards can wrest for control of demons, just as the metamagicians contend for the unlocking here.'
'I did not seek you out to push the beads about a puzzle,' Delia said. 'There is little enough time. Come, let us go into one of the caverns while the Skyskirr are occupied with their feast.'
'I thought it was my analytical bent that had finally worn down your resistance.' Jemidon laughed.
Delia did not smile. 'As I said, there is little enough time and certainly no other choice. Let us make the best of it that we can.'
Jemidon frowned at her serious tone. 'But what if I were the one with the heavy cough and you the more ablebodied?' he asked. 'Would you still seek me out? If somehow we return, what then of your closeness?'
For a long moment, Delia was silent. 'I do not know, Jemidon.' She sighed. 'You are a puzzling mixture. Flashes of brilliant insights, caring, and sentiment, but also a skittering focus and a disregard for discipline. I do not know, Jemidon, and abstract conjectures no longer matter. We are here, and the time is now.'
Jemidon pulled Delia tighter, and she kissed him on the cheek. He ran his hand down the length of her arm and felt his pulse quicken. But what she had said also began to gnaw at the back of his mind. Like a piece of sand in the corner of his eye, the words detracted from the anticipated pleasure. He thought of Augusta and the way she had looked when he decided to leave. He remembered the contrast of Delia's coldness when he tested her intent in Farnel's hut.
'It is because you have a need, isn't it?' Jemidon stiffened and pushed Delia away. 'On the cliffs of Morgana, beneath Drandor's tent, speaking the charms for Farnel-in each case you gave because of a necessity. An even exchange, one favor for another. And when we soared through sweet air, you were sufficient unto yourself. It is only when you desire a windshield against the cold or the cradle of an arm at the last that you come slithering back. Farnel, Gerilac, Burdon, whoever's comforting presence, it would not matter as long as you get what you want.'
'Your pleasure will be as great.' Delia's tone hardened. 'I do not take that for which I cannot provide adequate compensation.'
'Nor do you give without expecting payment in return,' Jemidon snapped. 'You are a woman with many skills, Delia. I am attracted to you in a way I cannot explain. But my thoughts were not of grateful favors when we raced down the cliffside in Morgana or struggled into the cages above the Arcadian plain.' He placed his finger under her chin, raising her eyes to his. 'You might try an unfettered gift once. There is more than one way to interact with another.'
'That is easy enough for you to say.' Delia pushed his hand aside, her eyes suddenly flashing. 'You did not have your innocence ripped away by dirty-handed traders only too eager to offer so-called advice in the token exchanges. You were not the slave of foul-breathed ruffians who delighted in making you a gaudy display. I have done my share of giving and learned full well what is the result.'
'And have I been like the others?' Jemidon asked. 'When we huddled for warmth, were my dirty hands misplaced?'
Delia turned away from his stare. She caught her breath and roughly twisted the iron bracelet around her wrist. Jemidon waited, breathing rapidly despite the tainted air.
'No, they were not,' she whispered after a long moment. 'From the first you have acted as a hero from the sagas, just as I visualized in the dreams I have long since thrust aside.'
She glanced into his eyes and then darted her sight away. 'You state that I deliberately stayed apart. Indeed I did, Jemidon, indeed I did. But not because of what you think. It has been so long, yet I am still afraid. You are soft and tender; I felt the walls I had so carefully erected melt away. But I cannot be so foolish. Even at the end. What
