"Yes, Miravelle, dear," said Lorkyn softly. "Don't worry anymore about them. Their intent has been fulfilled. "
She had not spoken in so long that this warmth took me by surprise.
"And what was their intent?" I asked.
"That Rowan Mayfair know of their fate," said Lorkyn calmly. "That the Secret People not vanish. "
Rowan sighed. Her face was indescribably sad.
She opened wide her arms and shepherded us out of the kitchen, a doctor leading us away from a deathbed.
We went out into the warm air, and the landscape seemed peaceful and given over to the rhythm of the waves and the breeze-cleansed by violence and mercilessness.
I looked beyond the lighted buildings to the huge mass of hovering jungle. I scanned again for any presence, human or Taltos. The dense growth was too thick with living things for me to detect any one creature.
I felt soul sick and empty. At the same time the three Taltos were worrying me in the extreme. What precisely was going to happen to them?
The crew with the frozen bodies ran past us to board the plane, and we made our way slowly to the metal steps on the tarmac.
"Did Father really ask for this, this freezing?" Oberon wanted to know. He had lost all of his scornful manner. "Did he go willingly to this death?" he asked sincerely.
"That's what Rodrigo always said," replied Miravelle, who was now in Stirling's arms, weeping piteously. "Father had told me to hide from the bad men, so I wasn't with him. They didn't find me until the next day. Lorkyn and I were together, hiding in the little house by the tennis courts. We didn't see what happened. We never saw Father and Mother again. "
"I don't want to board this plane as a prisoner," said Lorkyn very politely. "And I'd like to know where I'm going. It's un
clear to me, the source of authority here. Dr. Mayfair, would you please explain?"
"You're the victim of concern right now, Lorkyn," said Rowan in the same mild tone that Lorkyn had used with her.
Rowan reached into her pants pocket, pulled out a syringe and, as Lorkyn stared in horror and desperately struggled, sank a needle into the arm by which Quinn held her. Lorkyn went down clawing at Quinn and then finally totally collapsed, all hips, knees and spidery hands, kitten face asleep.
Oberon watched with narrow eyes and a chilling smile.
"You should have slit her throat, Dr. Rowan Mayfair," he said, with the rise of one eyebrow. "As a matter
of fact, I think I can break all the bones in her neck if you'll kindly allow me to try it. "
Miravelle spun around out of Stirling's loving grip and glared at Oberon: "No, no, you can't do such a horrible thing to Lorkyn. It's not Lorkyn's fault she's wise and knowing! Oberon, you can't do mean things to her, not now. "
Mona gave a short bitter laugh. "Maybe you've got your prize specimen, Rowan," she said in her frail voice. "Hook her up to every machine known to science, vivisect her, freeze her in fragments and on slides, make her lactate the marvelous Taltos milk!"
Rowan stared so icily at Mona it was difficult to tell if she heard the words. She called for help from inside the plane.
The sleeping Lorkyn was placed on a stretcher with restraints and taken on board as we waited in silence.
Stirling followed with Miravelle, who was still weeping for Mother and Father. "If only Father had called Rowan Mayfair when he wanted to. But Mother was so jealous. She knew Father loved Rowan Mayfair. Oh, if only Father had not listened. And now the Secret People are just us three. "
Rowan caught those words, glanced at me and then at Mona. Mona registered them too with a dark flashing glance at Rowan. The darkness overcame Rowan.
Oberon stood quite free, the picture of relaxation, with his weight on one hip, thumbs in his back pockets, studying Rowan in detail, his huge eyes half-mast again and his cheeks still wet from weeping.
"Don't tell me," he drawled, his head thrown back, "you want me to get in that plane too and go back with you to your Center of Medical Marvels. "
"Where else are you going to go?" asked Rowan with a coolness that matched his own. "You're going to leave Miravelle and Lorkyn?"
"Rowan's your kin," said Mona, her voice strained and impatient, "she's your family, she'll take care of you, Oberon. If you have an ounce of sense let it override your crushing sarcasm and caustic wit, and get on the plane, and behave yourself. You might just discover you belong to an extremely rich clan of remarkably generous people. "
"Your optimism touches me," he tossed off to Mona. "Shall we assume that it was devotion to the remarkable generous clan that drove you to run away with a couple of Blood Hunters and allow them to transform you into what you are?"