They walked down the hill back to the house in the dark and Amy looked at Stormfeather a little now and then.
"What went on back there, exactly?" she asked, "Why aren't we going to help those others?"
He walked a few steps in silence, but then she saw him turn to her for a moment. "In your life, Sheena, how many travelers have you seen before tonight?"
"Well, "she said as they walked on, "counting you, exactly one."
She could see him nod once. "No matter what was said tonight, in my long life," he said, "I have seen only a handful; the one that made me and one other -- and I killed him. When I came here, I met the male back there. Tonight, he was back with two others. They talked about the suffering of many, but I do not feel as though I am any sort of kin to them. It would be different if we were part of a tribe, maybe.
What they told of has gone on for a long time," he said with a shrug, "If I think of it all in a way that each of them was telling some of the truth at least, then there is a risk to us to go there. I was told that all of us must go there, but I was never really told why we must. I do feel a little pull, but not much, and not enough to want to run in without thinking about it first.
You said that you would like a year," he said. "I think that may be long enough to try to learn more and think. Nothing will change there in that time. I have been alone for so long. I want a little time to enjoy what we have first, and also, I want time for you to dream-walk. Maybe you can see more of this than what was said. What do you think?"
Amy was silent for a little while. "Maybe it would feel different to me if I knew them, so I understand what you're saying, and if we were threatened, then I guess I'd feel a lot different about it. I don't feel any pull toward that cave at all."
"I hear it from several voices now," he said, "from the one who made me, it had the sound of what had to be to come here, but I have never felt a strong pull. It was only something very small that was there. The old one sounds a little different to me now in his words. At first, he was as a helpful guide. This night, I heard some desperation."
They walked onto the porch and went inside. Amy picked up the old kettle, swirling it around a little to see how much water there was left. Satisfied, she set it onto the stove and added a little wood. "There's something that really bothers me about everything," she said, "If it's so bad in there, the mother ought to just leave with her daughter. She used to be human, I think, so she'd know better how to live out here. If we're this rare and hard to find, why wait for the chance that somebody might come? I think I'd just want my daughter to get the hell out and have a chance at some kind of life -- even if it's just to travel."
"I had the same thoughts," Arn said, "and more. How is it that the daughter -- who was born a traveler -- if she is to be believed, and then taken inside by her parents, can speak the same as you and I? Is this the speech of the ones inside? After so many years? The female who kept me from dying did not speak like this, though from what I think, she had never been to the place. We spoke together in the tongues of our different peoples to each other and had trouble often with the words. I learned other tongues from my travels, and I have been traveling a long time. How we speak now is different from what it once was -- a little, anyway."
They sat sipping coffee, tossing the thoughts which came to them back and forth. No matter what or how they tried to look at it, there was so much which made no sense, huge gaps where their knowledge ended.
"Let's go back to our first time in bed together," Amy said, "I didn't know what the hell was going on -- and really, I was overcome with it all. But you said after that you felt that it had to be -- and I felt that, too. Why would this all have been the way that it felt set out for us if what we find up there is like that? I can't understand that part."
Arn nodded, "I feel that something is wrong. Think of it like this, as what you are now, you can harm and kill many humans, if it was what you wanted to do. How is it that those ones there live in fear of men? What is a mage?"
"It's a word for a magician, or a sorcerer," Amy said. "It's a word from out of stories -- children's stories, mostly. It means a human man who can work magic. The younger one seemed to use the word in a bit of fear, from the way that I felt as she told her story."
He thought about it for a minute. "If that place has the same magic that I feel near the cave, then it might be." He looked at her for a moment, "Did you feel anything of it when we were there?"
"I felt something," she nodded, "I don't know what it was, though."
"I think it was a good sign," Arn smiled, reaching for her hand. Amy watched as she allowed him to lay her hand out palm-up and move her fingers.
"Hold each finger where I leave it when I let go," he said, pulling one after another into place, "Empty your mind of any thoughts."
She smirked, "You mean like the ones I'm having now wondering what's suddenly gotten into you?"
She watched his eyes look up into hers for a moment. "Yes," he smiled, "those ones."
When he was satisfied, he sat back. "Is your mind empty now?"
"It never is," she smiled, "but I'm not having the usual thoughts about dragging you off to bed for the moment. I guess you could say that it's quiet in my head for now. What are you doing?"
"That is already one thought too many. Stop thinking."
She nodded and sat still.
Arn made a motion and she saw a tiny little pearl of dim light in his hand. He brought the tips of all of his own fingers together and moved one of her fingertips a little away from the others before turning his hand over to place his fingers onto hers.
The pearl oozed from between his fingertips onto her palm in a long and shimmering string. "Do nothing for the moment," he said, looking intently at it. When the last bit had passed to her, he removed his hand and pushed her fingertip to close the cage that he'd made of her hand.
"It lies there in the hollow of your hand," he said, "Think that you would like it to be a little warm, and then try to make it grow -"
Amy's fingertips found themselves being forced apart as Arn reached forward to hold them together. "A little," he said.
The ball disappeared.
"It's gone," she said.
He shook his head, "No, it is still there, only smaller. Make it a little bigger."
The little sphere appeared again as it quickly grew to stop a little larger than it had been at first.
