Firechild (45 page)

He heard a muffled sound from her, more sob than laugh.

Then a different voice.

“Sax!
Por favor!”

Meg! Or was it? Reeling dizzily to his feet, he wasn’t sure of anything. She seemed to be somewhere far away, her high child-voice almost too faint for him to hear. Sinking back to the edge of the bed, he thought he saw a rosy glow in the dark above them. Or was it still that dazing blow?

“Please, Sax!” Her voice seemed stronger. “I cannot leave you fighting with
la pobre
Anya. Not because you think she killed me, for I am not dead.
En verdad,
I am more alive than I ever was.”

He looked for Anya, to see if she was hearing anything, but she was only a dark huddle under that pink dimness, still softly sobbing.

“Dear Sax!” He thought he heard that tiny voice again. “My second father! I must go away to my new people, who will love me and make me happy in their far world of fire, but I cannot leave until you love each other.”

In the dark above he thought he saw those pale wings spreading wide to reveal a brighter shape, the form of a woman, lean-limbed and lovely, with long yellow hair.

Alphamega, grown into the goddess Vic had dreamed she would be!

In another instant that glimpse had dimmed. Those glowing wings were closing again, but they brushed him as they closed, and suddenly the pain and the hate were gone from his ringing head.

“Dear Sax! Dear Anya!” He thought the shining wings were lifting. “Show me that you love each other.”

Tenderly, he reached to touch Anya’s trembling arm. The sound of her sobbing had stopped. He heard her laugh again, happily now, the laugh of a delighted child.

“Thank you, Meg!” she whispered.
“Spasebo!”

At first very gently they came together, needing no words, hardly even hearing that far small voice as it faded into the dark.

“Adiós, queridos!
My new Father-Mother is calling me home.”