Killashandra (23 page)

She heard voices and steps on the circular stair and made a dash for the toilet. She distinguished Lars’s distinctive laugh, a bass rumble from his father, and a grunt that could be Erutown, and some other voices. Until the eye had passed and the symbiont had quieted, Killashandra wanted to avoid everyone, especially Lars.

“Carrigana?” Lars called. Then she heard him approach
the toilet and rap on the door. “Carrigana? Would you mind fixing some hungry storm watchers more of those excellent sandwiches?”

Under ordinary circumstances, Killashandra would have had a tart rejoinder but catering would solve the more immediate problem.

“Just a moment.” She splashed water on her face, smoothed back her hair, and regarded the blossoms about her neck. Strangely enough they were not dead, their petals were still fresh despite the creasing. Their fragrance scented her fingers as she opened the crushed flowers and spread them back into their original shapes.

When she opened the door, Nahia and Hauness were making their way toward the catering area.

“They only want to talk weather,” Nahia said with a smile. “We’ll help you.”

The others did talk weather, but on the comunits to other islands, checking on storm damages and injuries, finding out what supplies would be required, and which island could best supply the needs. The three caterers served soup, a basic stew, and high-protein biscuits. In the company of Nahia and Hauness, the work was more pleasant than Killashandra would have believed. She had never met their likes before and realized that she probably never would again.

The respite at the storm’s eye was all too brief, and soon the hurricane was more frightening in its renewed violence. Though it was a zephyr in comparison to Ballybran turbulence, Killashandra rated it a respectable storm, and slept through the rest of it.

A touch on her shoulder woke her, a light touch that was then repeated and her shoulder held in a brief clasp. That was enough to bring Killashandra to full awareness and she looked up at Nahia’s perplexed expression. Killashandra smiled reassuringly, attempting to pass off the storm resonance still coursing through her body. As
Lars was draped against her, she moved cautiously to a sitting position and took the steaming cup from Nahia with quiet thanks. Killashandra wondered how the man had been able to sleep with her body buzzing.

Other storm watchers had disposed themselves for sleep about the room. Outside a hard rain was falling and a stout wind agitated the rain forest but the blow had become a shadow of its hurricane strength.

“We had orders to wake people as soon as the wind died to force five,” Nahia said and extended a second hot cup to Killashandra for Lars.

“Has there been much damage? Many injuries?”

“Sufficient. The hurricane was unseasonably early and caught some communities unprepared. Olav is preparing emergency schedules for us.”

“Us?” Killashandra stared at Nahia in surprise. “Surely you’re not going to risk being seen and identified here?”

“These are my own people, Carrigana. I am safest in the islands.” Serenely confident, the beauty returned to the catering area.

Lars had awakened during that brief interchange although he hadn’t changed his position. His very blue eyes were watching her closely, no expression gave her a hint of his mood. Lazily he caressed her leg. Gradually his lips began to curve in a smile. What he might have said, what thoughts he held behind those keen eyes he did not share with her. Then he touched the garland she still wore, carefully unfolding a crushed petal. “Will you be crew for me? We won’t have much time together southbound. Tanny, Theach, and Erutown sail with us, and we’ll be dropping off supplies here and there …”

“Of course I’ll come,” Killashandra said eagerly. She wouldn’t miss the trip for the world. Only … how would Lars take her deception? Would she lose him? Well, she didn’t have to admit that she was the crystal singer they had incarcerated on the island!

The winds out of the Back Harbor were brisk enough to be dangerous, but the well laden
Pearl
settled down to her task like the splendid craft she was. Erutown was the nonsailor among them and took to a bunk in the forward cabin until the motion sickness medication had taken effect. Theach had appropriated the small terminal, smiling with absentminded good humor at his shipmates, before he resumed his programming.

Now that Tanny was on his way, he was as cheerful a companion as one could wish. Nor was he impatient with Killashandra as a crewmember. They had set sail once the winds had dropped to force three, one of the first of the larger sailing vessels to leave haven. Others were being loaded and crewed for their relief voyages. After the enforced idleness of the storm, it was good to be physically active. Killashandra didn’t mind the wet weather nor the tussle with wind as she and Tanny made periodic checks of the deck cargo.

Fresh water and food were unloaded at the first stop, and some emergency medical supplies. The
Pearl
had carefully motored past the debris floating in the small harbor: roofs, the sides of dwellings, innumerable polly trees, fruit bobbing about like so many bald heads. That sight had startled Killashandra and she had nearly exposed her ignorance of island phenomena to Tanny. The inhabitants had taken refuge on the one highland of the island, but they were already hauling salvageables from the high tide mark and the water. They cheered the arrival of the
Pearl
, some wading out to float the water-tight supplies in to shore. The exchange was completed in the time it took the
Pearl
to turn about and head back to the open sea.

And that was the routine at a half-dozen smaller islands. Killashandra had had a long look at the charts and the compass; they were taking a long arcing route, “her” island being the farthest point of their journey to the southwest.

The waters were studded with islands, large, small, and medium. All showed the devastation of the storm, and on most the polly trees were still bent over from their struggle with the hurricane: on some of the smaller islands, the trees had been uprooted. As no one made a comment on this waste, Killashandra could not ask how soon polly would reestablish itself.

In answer to a faint emergency call, they eventually sailed into the harbor of a medium-size island that had lost its communications masts and had been unable to make contact with Angel. Lars and Tanny went ashore there, leaving Killashandra in conspicuous sight while Erutown and Theach remained below. Some of the urgently needed items could be supplied from the extras on board and Lars contacted Angel for the rest.

As they finally lifted anchor and sailed onward, Tanny’s rising excitement was communicated to Killashandra. She could recognize nothing, but if they were indeed near the island of her incarceration, she had swum
away
from nearby help. As they approached the next landfall, she didn’t need Tanny’s shout of relief to know they had reached “her” island; the huge polly tree in the center was a distinctive landmark. Not only had the tree survived but also its siblings or offspring, and the little hut she had made in their shelter. Lars has to restrain Tanny from diving into the breakers and swimming ashore in his eagerness to reassure himself.

“I don’t see anyone!” Tanny cried as the
Pearl
motored toward the beach. “Surely she could hear the engine!”

“Is this where you want to dump us?” Erutown growled, surveying the uprooted polly, the wind-depressed trunks of more, and the storm debris on the once white sands.

“Oh, you’ll be luxuriously situated, “I assure you,” Lars said. Killashandra had decided that Lars and Erutown
were in basic disagreement on too many counts. Lars was delighted to deposit the man out of the way for a while. “We’ve solar-power units for Theach’s equipment, all sorts of emergency camp gear, and plenty of food should you tire of the stuff the island and the sea provide.”

“And a hatchet, a knife, and a book of instructions?” Killashandra asked. She was not above priming her surprise.

“There speaks the polly planter.” Grinning, Lars flipped the toggle to release the anchor, cut off the engine, and gestured Tanny overboard. He was halfway up the heights to the shelter before the others had made the beach.

“There’s no one here, Lars. Ye gods, what shall we do? There’s no one here!” Tanny screamed.

Consternation smoothed Lars’s features and he set off up the slope at speed. Killashandra followed at a more leisurely pace, wondering whether she would ease their fears. One look at the terror and hopelessness of Tanny’s face, and a second one at the shock on Lars’s eroded her need for revenge. Erutown and Theach were on the beach, out of hearing.

“You don’t know very much about crystal singers, do you, Lars …”

He swung around, stared at her, trying to assimilate her words. Tanny reached his conclusion first and sat heavily down among the storm-strewn polly fronds, his expression incredulous.

“… If you thought I’d just sit here until it suited you to retrieve me.”

A
ny discussion of
that
would have to be postponed. Theach and Erutown reached the height, looking about them for their fellow exile. Unable to look in Killashandra’s direction, Tanny shot one horrified glance at Lars as the latter smoothly invented a note that she had been removed from the island by a passing vessel. He even flourished a piece of paper from his pocket as he commented that he was glad she was safe.

“That tears it,” Erutown said gloomily. “We’ll all be in trouble.”

“I doubt it. A very good friend of ours skippered that ship,” Lars replied without a blink. “She can’t go anywhere without my knowledge.” Tanny made a strangled sound and Killashandra grinned, choking on her laughter. “There’s nothing you could safely do without jeopardizing yourself at this point, Erutown. It isn’t as if you’ll be out of touch,” and Lars handed the man a small but powerful handset. “The frequency to use for any
contact is 103.4 megahertz. All right? You can listen in on any of the other channels but communicate only on the 103.4.”

Erutown agreed with ill grace, hefting the set doubtfully. With a sideways grin at Killashandra, Lars handed over hatchet, knife, and polly book.

“There now, you’re completely equipped,” Killashandra said cheerfully. “You’ll find that a polly island is quite restful.” She glanced maliciously at Tanny and Lars. “Everything you require—polly for food, fish in the lagoon for sport and a change of diet, and a fine reef to prevent the omnivorous from dining on you. You’re far better off than I was on my polly island, I assure you.” Tanny squirmed, noticeably discomfited.

“Oh, we’ll do fine, Carrigana.” Theach grinned as he began to unpack the solar reflectors.

Lars chuckled, linking his arm in hers, and swinging her down the slope to the beach.

“C’mon, Tanny, I want to be at the Bar Island before sundown.”

What with the routine necessary to up anchor and maneuver the
Pearl
through the one gap in the reef, there wasn’t time for discussions until they were once again under full sail and beating due north for the Bar Island.

“Tanny, I think you’d better go below,” Lars began, signaling Killashandra to join him in the cockpit. “What you don’t know won’t hurt you—”

“Who says?” Tanny growled.

“Fix us some grub, will you? All this excitement gave me an appetite. So,” and once Tanny had slammed the hatch closed, Lars turned expectantly to Killashandra, “could I have some explanations?”

“I rather think a few are due me!”

Lars cocked an eyebrow, grinning sardonically at her. “Not when you must have figured out many of the answers
already if you’re half as smart as I think you are.” Lars slid a finger across the scar on her arm, then he reached for her hand and held it up before her face, his thumb rubbing against the crystal scars. “ ‘I came from the City.’ Indeed!”

“Well, I did …” she said, deceptively meekly.

“Your best line, you witch, was the one about your having had no choice about coming to the islands!” Lars could not contain his mirth then and tilting his head back, roared with laughter.

“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, Lars Dahl. You’re in an unenviable position in my files.” She tried to sound severe but couldn’t.

His eyes were still brimming with humor when he abruptly switched mood. He touched the garland. “Yes, I am rather. And on Angel Island. For one thing, according to island tradition, this announces us handfasted for a year and a day.”

“I had guessed that the garlands signified more than your loving wish to adorn my person.” The words came out more facetiously than she meant for she ached with a genuine regret. Lars’s steady blue eyes caught her gaze and held it. He waited for her explanation.

“With all the will in the world to continue what we started, I don’t have a year and a day here, Lars Dahl.” The words left her mouth slowly, unwillingly. “As a crystal singer, I am compelled to return to Ballybran. Had I understood yesterday morning precisely what these blooms meant, I would not have accepted them. Thus does ignorance wound the giver. I am … tremendously attracted to you as a man, Lars Dahl. And in the light of what I have been told, heard, and overheard,” she gave him a faint smile, “I can even forgive you that idiotic abduction. In fact, it would have been far more humiliating for me to have been caught in a raid on a bootleg brewery. What you cannot know is
that I wasn’t sent to Optheria merely to repair that organ—I am here as an impartial witness, to learn if restriction to this planet is popularly accepted.”