| "That's not difficult. They don't question Vryyh." |  | 
|  | "Good." I rubbed a hand down my face smearing
sweat and dirt. It marked my hand. I stared at it. | 
| "But for you, rider? What will help you? I can
inject you---" |  | 
|  | "No." | 
| "Nothing unorthodox. Just---" |  | 
|  | "I am unorthodox now." I responded to her unspoken
question. "You know this of me, during my work. The heightening, as you
have tactfully referred to it." | 
| "But this is different. There's something different,
something troubling you more. And my readings of you---" |  | 
|  | "I have never faced source lines before. No 1
has." | 
| She frowned. Pennbaston was not satisfied. |  | 
|  | "I can't explain it now. I must go." | 
| "There must be something?" Her voice took an edge. |  | 
|  | I had begun away but I paused at that, feeling
her desperation. "There is 1 thing." | 
| "What?" She bent to open her case. |  | 
|  | I stopped her, "Water." | 
| "Oh." She almost smiled, and the gentle
fondness which slipped over her face was nearly more than I could withstand
at present. "I'll not be gone a moment. Sit here, rider." She eased me
back to perch upon a stone. "Just sit here a minute, get your breath, that'll
prepare you, too, for your return. I'll fetch you water." | 
|  | I watched her hurry away and debated briefly the
advantage of leaving now. Easier for me and for her, surely. | 
| But I was there on my stone when she
returned with a dripping water bag. I drank deeply and then poured water
down over my face. Its cold freshness startled me into greater alertness.
"Thank you, Pennbaston. " I held it out. | 
| "Shouldn't you take it?" |  | 
|  | "No." | 
| "But---" |  | 
|  | "I must take nothing with me." | 
| "Oh." |  | 
|  | I stood and started away. "See to Fion." | 
| Pennbaston nodded. When I was almost
through the slit she called. "Yes, I will. I will!' | 
|   |