The Darkangel by Meredith Ann Pierce Page A

may be..."
    "I want to go to him," said Aeriel.
    "Do not," said the duarough sharply. "Even now he is treacherous and dangerous."
    "He weeps," said Aeriel.
    The duarough shook his head.
    "I can hear him," she insisted.
    "He has no blood," the duarough said, "nor tears. He is baiting you."
    "You are wrong," answered Aeriel. "I think he truly suffers."
    "That may be," the duarough told her. "But he will recover."
    Aeriel listened to the vampyre's dry sobbing. He moaned.
    "Leave me. Let me be. Why do you haunt me so? I want no more dreams, no dreams.
    Please..."
    Aeriel put her hands to her ears and sank down. "I cannot stand this anymore. Stop my ears."
    The duarough came forward, the beeswax in hand. The wax was hot and soft in her ear.
    He pressed it into place, then turned her head to reach the other. He pulled off a piece of wax from the lump, but before he could put it in, the icarus called again, from farther away than before. She heard him limping upstream along the bank. His voice shook a little, but that was all. He was trying to sound pleasant.
    "Where are you?" he cried. "Come out. There's no need to be afraid___"
    Aeriel let the duarough press the warm wax into her ears, and then all was quiet.
    HOW LONG SHE MIGHT HAVE DOZED, Aeriel could not tell. When she awoke, the duarough was taking the wax from her ears. The great book lay open on the sand across from her; itspages were covered with many rows of runes, and the illuminated picture of a great snowy heron. The small white fire flickered as before—it never seemed to burn down, and she had never seen the duarough add kindling to it. When his careful, stubby fingers had gotten most of the warm wax from her ears, she could hear it snapping quietly now and again.
    "Is it safe?" she said, sitting up and taking the last bits of beeswax from her ears herself.
    Her mind was clear now, no longer under the dark-angel's spell. She felt stronger, and more sure.
    "Safe enough for the moment, I should think," the duarough replied. "He has gone off upstream into the higher caves. I have closed a few passages and opened others to confuse him. I think he will be lost up there for a while yet. Are you hungry? Here, eat this."
    He produced from one of his many hidden pockets a large white mushroom—one of the many that grew in the caves. Aeriel took it gladly. It was fluffy as angelfood, but at the same time very filling. The duarough went back over to the fire and knelt beside his book. Aeriel gazed at the illuminated picture of the heron while she ate, and wondered what it signified.
    "I have done some reading while you slept," the duarough said, "and have made something for you. Come and I will show you."
    He rose and walked past her then to the door behind the partition. Aeriel followed hesitantly, half-expecting the vampyre to stand concealed just beyond the corner, ready to snatch them the moment they emerged. But no vampyre lurked. As they came through the door and walked down to the water, Aeriel saw moored to a stake driven in the sand a tiny skiff, shallow as a marsh boat, made of something pearly and translucent like horn or shell, with a heron's bust—head dipped, wings outspread—carved as figurehead upon its prow. The craft had a single tiny sail, so light that even the slight cave wind swelled it so the craft bucked and danced in the water like an eager horse.
    "She is so beautiful," said Aeriel, drawing toward the little vessel like a moth to light. She knelt and laid her hand upon its slender prow. The skiff bobbed and rubbed her hand exacdy like a pony. "What is her name?"
    "I have christened her Wind," said the duarough, " IVind-on-the-lVater, in hope that she will bear you as swiftly as her name."
    "Bear me?" said Aeriel. "I am not going___"
    "But you must, child; don't you see? The icarus will kill you if you stay."
    Aeriel shook her head and stroked the little ship sadly. "I cannot leave here. I am in his power, yes, but I have sworn to rescue the