decision on Unification, my boy." Anselm took the Adviser by the arm and swept the curtain aside. "I'll send her in."
Jared coughed, spanned his steaming forehead with a trembling hand and shivered.
A short while later the girl entered and drew in a sharp breath as she stood with her back against the curtain.
"Jared!" she exclaimed with deep concern. "You're boiling! What's wrong?"
He was surprised at first that she could hear his fever all the way across the grotto. But fever was heat. And heat was the stuff Zivvers zivved, wasn't it?
"I don't know," he managed.
For a moment he had almost generated interest in the fact that she was here and zivving. And that now was his chance to listen closely and perhaps hear whether there was a lessness of something around her _while_ she zivved. But his purpose faded away in another jarring shiver.
Della closed the curtain securely behind her and came over. He turned his head and coughed and she knelt before him, feeling the heat in his arms and face. And he heard her features twist with concern.
But she pushed the expression aside for something that was evidently more urgent. "Jared, I'm sure the Adviser knows you're a Zivver!"
she whispered. "He hasn't come out and said so, but he keeps reminding everybody how remarkable your senses are!"
Jared swayed forward, caught himself and sat there trembling and perspiring, his head roaring, spinning.
"Don't you hear why he made you shoot at that target among the hot springs?" she went on. "He _knows_ what too much heat does to a Zivver!
He was just trying to find out if you--"
The girl's words faded into oblivion as he toppled forward off the bench.
When finally he awoke, there was the waning taste in his mouth of medicinal mold and the vague memory of having been forced to swallow the mushy substance several times.
Too, he sensed that during the entire period--or was it longer?--he had lain semiconscious in the Wheel's grotto, Kind Survivoress had tried to force her way back into his delirious dreams. Perhaps she had even succeeded. But he could recall neither her successful intrusion nor the dreams themselves.
Now he felt only an inner calm and comfort. His throat was smooth again and the pounding fever had left his head. Even if he was not entirely well, he felt certain that only a full return of his strength stood in the way of complete recovery.
Gradually, he became aware of restrained breathing at the other end of the grotto and recognized the rhythm and depth of the breaths as Della's.
There was the firm, supple sound of thigh and calf muscles working together as she paced--nervously, he could tell by the erratic steps--to the curtain and back again.
Then she came abruptly over to the slumber ledge and shook him desperately. "Jared, wake up!"
He could tell from the urgency in her voice that she had been trying to arouse him for some time.
"I'm
awake."
"Oh, thank Light!" Some of her hair had come out of the band that held it tightly behind her head and had fallen across her face. She brushed it aside and he got a clearer impression of smooth, precise features that were taut with solicitude.
"You've got to get out of here!" she went on in a strained whisper.
"The Adviser's convinced Uncle Noris you're a Zivver! They're going to--"
There was the sound of nearby conversation in the outside world and Jared heard the soft current of air swirl around her face as she jerked her head toward the curtain, then back again.
"They're coming!" she warned. "Maybe we can slip out before they get here!"
He tried to rise but fell back down, weak and puzzled, as he suddenly realized the girl didn't customarily bend an ear toward an interesting noise, as everyone else did. She always kept her face pointed directly at anything that held her attention. Which meant she didn't ziv with her ears! But, then, what _did_ she ziv with?
The voices outside came more clearly through the curtain now.
Adviser: "Of
Jared coughed, spanned his steaming forehead with a trembling hand and shivered.
A short while later the girl entered and drew in a sharp breath as she stood with her back against the curtain.
"Jared!" she exclaimed with deep concern. "You're boiling! What's wrong?"
He was surprised at first that she could hear his fever all the way across the grotto. But fever was heat. And heat was the stuff Zivvers zivved, wasn't it?
"I don't know," he managed.
For a moment he had almost generated interest in the fact that she was here and zivving. And that now was his chance to listen closely and perhaps hear whether there was a lessness of something around her _while_ she zivved. But his purpose faded away in another jarring shiver.
Della closed the curtain securely behind her and came over. He turned his head and coughed and she knelt before him, feeling the heat in his arms and face. And he heard her features twist with concern.
But she pushed the expression aside for something that was evidently more urgent. "Jared, I'm sure the Adviser knows you're a Zivver!"
she whispered. "He hasn't come out and said so, but he keeps reminding everybody how remarkable your senses are!"
Jared swayed forward, caught himself and sat there trembling and perspiring, his head roaring, spinning.
"Don't you hear why he made you shoot at that target among the hot springs?" she went on. "He _knows_ what too much heat does to a Zivver!
He was just trying to find out if you--"
The girl's words faded into oblivion as he toppled forward off the bench.
When finally he awoke, there was the waning taste in his mouth of medicinal mold and the vague memory of having been forced to swallow the mushy substance several times.
Too, he sensed that during the entire period--or was it longer?--he had lain semiconscious in the Wheel's grotto, Kind Survivoress had tried to force her way back into his delirious dreams. Perhaps she had even succeeded. But he could recall neither her successful intrusion nor the dreams themselves.
Now he felt only an inner calm and comfort. His throat was smooth again and the pounding fever had left his head. Even if he was not entirely well, he felt certain that only a full return of his strength stood in the way of complete recovery.
Gradually, he became aware of restrained breathing at the other end of the grotto and recognized the rhythm and depth of the breaths as Della's.
There was the firm, supple sound of thigh and calf muscles working together as she paced--nervously, he could tell by the erratic steps--to the curtain and back again.
Then she came abruptly over to the slumber ledge and shook him desperately. "Jared, wake up!"
He could tell from the urgency in her voice that she had been trying to arouse him for some time.
"I'm
awake."
"Oh, thank Light!" Some of her hair had come out of the band that held it tightly behind her head and had fallen across her face. She brushed it aside and he got a clearer impression of smooth, precise features that were taut with solicitude.
"You've got to get out of here!" she went on in a strained whisper.
"The Adviser's convinced Uncle Noris you're a Zivver! They're going to--"
There was the sound of nearby conversation in the outside world and Jared heard the soft current of air swirl around her face as she jerked her head toward the curtain, then back again.
"They're coming!" she warned. "Maybe we can slip out before they get here!"
He tried to rise but fell back down, weak and puzzled, as he suddenly realized the girl didn't customarily bend an ear toward an interesting noise, as everyone else did. She always kept her face pointed directly at anything that held her attention. Which meant she didn't ziv with her ears! But, then, what _did_ she ziv with?
The voices outside came more clearly through the curtain now.
Adviser: "Of
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