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.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"So I hope." She forced her gaze past the barriers and into his unwillingmind."You aren't pretending this is the first time that's occurred to you,are you?""No." He shook his head; his red hair brushed the links of silvered chain thatcaught the shoulders of his loose-hanging shirt."I've thought about it every day, and dreamed it--" "Pleasant dreams," shesaid sardonically."No!" She remembered the nightmares, the ones that he had refused to discusswith her."Get someone else to make the delivery.I've done my duty, I'mchoking on Winter's dirty work.I draw the line at giving that rotting offworlder slug eternal life for destroying my own people.""You're no Summer! And you're paying for your own life, and mine."Arienrhod leaned across the work table, reaching out."You can't crawl backinto a Summer shell; you outgrew that long ago.You've killed your sacredmers, you've left your Summer love dead with their corpses.You abandoned yourpeople and your goddess years ago--for something better! Remember that! Youare an off worlder now, and my lover.And like it or not, you will be untilyou die."Starbuck pushed to his feet, sweeping the clatter and blink off of the tablewith his fist.Arienrhod stepped back as she realized he had only just keptthat rage from striking out at her."Then I'd just as soon die now." He clenched his hands on the table edge,leaning forward with his head down."And finish what I've started.""Sparks." His name rose out of her deepest heart, where the hot pain of hissuffering reached her dimly.But he did not respond.She could not reach himany more; he had shut her out."Starbuck!" The suffering became her own, andthe pain became her anger.He did look up this time, with his face hard andclenched.There was nothing ofSparks in the look; only a ghost lying behind it: the ghost of lostMoon, her own lost other ness Moon, whose death was his fault, and who hadtaken his love for the both of them with her into the grave.Arienrhod felt his reality, shrouded by the ghost of Moon, become the focusfor failure's burning glass: jail ure The word left a smoking track across herinner sight."You will deliver the water of life, and I want it done soon.Your Queen commands it."His mouth thinned.It was the first time she had ever commanded him; the firsttime he had ever forced her to."And if I refuse?""Then I'll give you to the off worlders Refusing to let him defy her, shepulled at the sliding reins of her control."And you'll spend the rest of yourlife in a penal colony wishing that you had died at the Change."Starbuck's mouth dropped open.His eyes felt her face like a blind man'shands, until at last he knew that she meant every word.Hebowed his head in surrender, helpless under the weight of his own self-hatred.She knew then that she could make him do anything.and that in winningthis victory she had lost him forever.Moon woke suddenly with a sigh in the warm embrace of someone's arms.Sparkle,I had such a strange dream.She opened her eyes, jerked at theunexpectedness of the room opening out before her.And remembering, she lookeddown along her side to find a warm brown arm freckled with pink secure beneathher own.For just a moment pain caught inside her; but then she smiled,without guilt or regret, twining her fingers in his.She shifted carefully onthe narrow bed-sofa to study BZ's sleeping face, remembering how he hadwatched over her in the silent dawns.Remembering the poems of his heart thathe spoke to her wondering ears, as he gave himself to her at last, my star,white bird, wildflower garden.until she had cried out the words that shehad no right to say, and no power to deny, _I_ love you, I love you.She stroked his cheek, but he did not stir; rested her head on his shoulder.Here in this room, this space apart from their separate lives, they had sharedPage 199 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmllove, and they had given each other something else as precious--an affirmationof their own value.The sounds of the Festival still reached her, muted but unchanging; the levelof light flowing in through the window had not changed either.("I've neverdone this in the light," he had murmured."We're so beautiful.Why was Iashamed?") She had no feel for whether it was night or day, or how long theyhad slept.Her tj body was sluggish and unwilling, telling her it had not beenlong enough.But she couldn't afford any more time.BZ still slept like thedead, and she moved out from under his arm as quietly as she could, withouttrying to wake him; certain that she could find her way as far as the maskmaker alley alone.She dressed and slipped out the door.The crowds seemed as vibrant, as endless, as before, as though one shift ofrevelers merged imperceptibly into the next, an infinite wheel.She kept asclose to the building walls as she could, forcing her way through the eddyingbackwaters around vendors' booths and outdoor cafes.She grabbed a piece ofspiced meat from a table as she passed, choked it down, her throat tight andher mind sparking with the feedback of sheer energy from every side.At last she broke through into the Citron Alley, where the crowd currentslowed and grew less deep.She found her way to the go tanery entrance, wentone more shop to the mask maker Its yellow green double door was firmly shut;she beat on the upper half with her fist, throwing all her frustration andurgency into it."Open up!Open up!"The top half of the door opened, catching her in mid-cry; she ended with alaugh of triumph.A middle-aged woman with dark hair in a heavy plait lookedout at her, through her, with eyes sleep reddened.with eyes that did notsee her."Yes, who is it?"wearily, a little impatiently."Are you--are you Fate Ravenglass, the mask maker She wondered what she hadbeen expecting, relieved that this woman wasn't it."Yes." The woman rubbed her face."But all my masks are gone.You'll have to go to one of the displays to look at them.There are warehousesand vacant stores full of them all over the city.""No, I don't want a mask.I want to ask you about--Sparks.SparksDawntreader.""Sparks?" The reaction she had waited for, prayed for, filled the woman'sface.She opened the bottom of the door."Come in then! Come in."Moon entered the shop, blinked with the dimming of light.As her eyesreadjusted, she saw boxes and baskets piled in precisely ordered confusion inthe room's four quarters--remnants of cloth, face forms, feathers, bangles,beads.Her foot skidded on a bead as she moved forward; she picked it upcarefully and held it in her hand.The walls of the room were empty now, butthey bristled with hooks where a hundred masks must have hung like rareflowers until only two or three days ago.The last wall space was notempty.On it hung one mask all alone, and she stood staring, transfixed by theshimmering vision of a summer's day: mist-rainbows reflecting in pied pools,emerald-velvet moss underfoot and the green-gold silk of new grasses springingup on the hillsides; hoards of wildflowers, frag ant with life, berries andbirds' wings dappled with shadow; and in their midst a face of radiantinnocence captive to wonder, crowned by the rays of the twin suns."Isthat--the Summer Queen?" she whispered, awed.The woman turned to face it instinctively."That is her mask.Who she will be,herself, is still a mystery known only to the gods.""To the Lady," Moon said, without thinking."Yes, of course." The mask maker smiled a little sadly; Moon realized all thethings this mask would mean to a Winter, and that none of them were the samethings that moved her
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