Killashandra

“Carrigana?” Lars called. Then she heard him approach the toilet and rap on the door. “Carrigana? Would you mind fixing some hungry storm watchers more of those excellent sandwiches?”

Under ordinary circumstances, Killashandra would have had a tart rejoinder but catering would solve the more immediate problem.

“Just a moment.” She splashed water on her face, smoothed back her hair, and regarded the blossoms about her neck. Strangely enough they were not dead, their petals were still fresh despite the creasing. Their fragrance scented her fingers as she opened the crushed flowers and spread them back into their original shapes.

When she opened the door, Nahia and Hauness were making their way toward the catering area.

“They only want to talk weather,” Nahia said with a smile. “We’ll help you.”

The others did talk weather, but on the comunits to other islands, checking on storm damages and injuries, finding out what supplies would be required, and which island could best supply the needs. The three caterers served soup, a basic stew, and high-protein biscuits. In the company of Nahia and Hauness, the work was more pleasant than Killashandra would have believed. She had never met their likes before and realized that she probably never would again.

The respite at the storm’s eye was all too brief, and soon the hurricane was more frightening in its renewed violence. Though it was a zephyr in comparison to Ballybran turbulence, Killashandra rated it a respectable storm, and slept through the rest of it.

A touch on her shoulder woke her, a light touch that was then repeated and her shoulder held in a brief clasp. That was enough to bring Killashandra to full awareness and she looked up at Nahia’s perplexed expression. Killashandra smiled reassuringly, attempting to pass off the storm resonance still coursing through her body. As Lars was draped against her, she moved cautiously to a sitting position and took the steaming cup from Nahia with quiet thanks. Killashandra wondered how the man had been able to sleep with her body buzzing.

Other storm watchers had disposed themselves for sleep about the room. Outside a hard rain was falling and a stout wind agitated the rain forest but the blow had become a shadow of its hurricane strength.

“We had orders to wake people as soon as the wind died to force five,” Nahia said and extended a second hot cup to Killashandra for Lars.

“Has there been much damage? Many injuries?”

“Sufficient. The hurricane was unseasonably early and caught some communities unprepared. Olav is preparing emergency schedules for us.”

“Us?” Killashandra stared at Nahia in surprise. “Surely you’re not going to risk being seen and identified here?”

“These are my own people, Carrigana. I am safest in the islands.” Serenely confident, the beauty returned to the catering area.

Lars had awakened during that brief interchange although he hadn’t changed his position. His very blue eyes were watching her closely, no expression gave her a hint of his mood. Lazily he caressed her leg. Gradually his lips began to curve in a smile. What he might have said, what thoughts he held behind those keen eyes he did not share with her. Then he touched the garland she still wore, carefully unfolding a crushed petal. “Will you be crew for me? We won’t have much time together southbound. Ta

“Of course I’ll come,” Killashandra said eagerly. She wouldn’t miss the trip for the world. Only . . . how would Lars take her deception? Would she lose him? Well, she didn’t have to admit that she was the crystal singer they had incarcerated on the island!

The winds out of the Back Harbor were brisk enough to be dangerous, but the well laden Pearl settled down to her task like the splendid craft she was. Erutown was the nonsailor among them and took to a bunk in the forward cabin until the motion sickness medication had taken effect. Theach had appropriated the small terminal, smiling with absentminded good humor at his shipmates, before he resumed his programming.

Now that Ta

Fresh water and food were unloaded at the first stop, and some emergency medical supplies. The Pearl had carefully motored past the debris floating in the small harbor: roofs, the sides of dwellings, i

And that was the routine at a half-dozen smaller islands. Killashandra had had a long look at the charts and the compass; they were taking a long arcing route, “her” island being the farthest point of their journey to the southwest.

The waters were studded with islands, large, small, and medium. All showed the devastation of the storm, and on most the polly trees were still bent over from their struggle with the hurricane: on some of the smaller islands, the trees had been uprooted. As no one made a comment on this waste, Killashandra could not ask how soon polly would reestablish itself.

In answer to a faint emergency call, they eventually sailed into the harbor of a medium-size island that had lost its communications masts and had been unable to make contact with Angel. Lars and Ta

As they finally lifted anchor and sailed onward, Ta

“I don’t see anyone!” Ta

“Is this where you want to dump us?” Erutown growled, surveying the uprooted polly, the wind-depressed trunks of more, and the storm debris on the once white sands.

“Oh, you’ll be luxuriously situated, I assure you.” Lars said. Killashandra had decided that Lars and Erutown were in basic disagreement on too many counts. Lars was delighted to deposit the man out of the way for a while. “We’ve solar-power units for Theach’s equipment, all sorts of emergency camp gear, and plenty of food should you tire of the stuff the island and the sea provide.”

“And a hatchet, a knife, and a book of instructions?” Killashandra asked she was not above priming her surprise.

“There speaks the polly planter.” Gri