Many Waters Part 25

Dennys hurried to him. "Higgy, do you think you could scent for Sandy, the way you scent for water?"

The mammoth's little eyes had been shadowed with grief. Now they brightened. Shem dropped to his knees by Higgaion, bending down toward him in intimate communication, speaking softly.

The mammoth raised his trunk in a small, hopeful trumpet.

Dennys's eyes, too. were hopeful. "Oh, Shem, what could have happened to him?"

Shem's voice was heavy. "Some people are wicked, and the imagination of their hearts is only to do evil."

"What about Grandfather?" Dennys asked.

Shem stroked his beard in a gesture much like Noah's. "Grandfather knew. There is much wickedness. It, too, smells. You do not smell wicked. Den, nor does the Sand. Grandfather said that there is a great warmth in your hearts, and that is a pleasing smell." It was the longest speech Shem had ever made.

"Thank you," Dennys said. Then: "Let's go."

Shem shook his head, glancing up at the sun. "I thought we would have found him by now."

"Come on," Dennys urged.

"Den, I have hunting to do if we are to eat tonight."

"But-"

"My sisters and their families ate hugely, did you notice?"

Funeral baked meats, Dennys thought angrily.

"Den, we must eat if we are to have strength for whatever-"

Dennys turned to Higgaion. "Come on, Higgy."

"Den. I hunt best alone. But I will continue to search for the Sand. Find j.a.pheth."

"But he's-"

"He and Father will be searching near the tent. Do not go off with Higgaion alone. It is not safe."

Dennys looked at Shem's anxious face. Not safe. Not safe, because whatever had happened to Sandy might happen to Dennys...

"We will not stop until we find him," Shem said. "Go find j.a.pheth. You and Higgaion."

Noah sat in the big tent, cross-legged, his elbows on his knees, his head bent down to his hands. Matred came and sat beside him.

"I don't know where he is," Noah said. "Where he could be."

"Rest, husband," Matred urged. "He will be found."

Noah nodded. "My heart is heavy. I grieve for my father."

"He was an old man, full of years," Matred consoled him.

"The Sand is not."

"You think something has happened to him?"

"Why else would he not have joined me at my father's tent? He is not like the young men of the oasis, thinking of n.o.body but themselves."

"He and the Den are not like anybody else," Matred said. "We do not know that something terrible has happened."

Noah did not reply, nor did he look at her. "And I must begin to build the ark."

Matred said, "El has never before asked you to do anything wild."

"Is it so wild? If the rains cover the earth, as he says they will, it will not be a wild thing to have an ark."

"The rains had better not cover the earth for a while," Matred said. "You have to build the ark, find all the animals."

"I will begin right away."

"And you will be laughed at. You will be the big Joke of the oasis."

"I do not find it amusing," Noah said. "My father is dead. The Sand is El knows where."

"Why don't you ask El?"

"I have. El says only that 1 must begin to build the ark. El says nothing about the Sand."

"Or the Den?"

Noah grunted in agreement.

"Will you bring them onto the ark?"

"Of people, only you, and our sons, and their wives. No more."

"Yalith-" Matred started, but stopped as two men came, unannounced, through the open tent flap.

Tiglah's father and brother.

11 Many Waters Cannot Quench Love Yalith went out into the desert. She was anxious, and anything but sleepy. She wanted to fling herself into Matred's lap and sob, as though she were still a little girl. She wanted to cry herself to sleep.

But she was no longer a little girl, and her eyes felt dry and burning. She was not used to being out at this time of day. She was not sure what drew her to the desert, because there was no hope that she might see Aariel. He would be in his cave, sleeping.

Nevertheless, she walked in that direction, and as she approached she was amazed to see him lying in the shadows at the mouth of the cave. Although she was certain it was Aariel, she was cautious. She had been certain that it was Aariel when the lion turned into the dragon/lizard Ebtis.

She whispered, "Aariel-"

The lion rose, stretched, yawned, then paced toward her.

"Oh, Aariel!" She flung her arms about the tawny neck, though her tears were spent. "We don't know where the Sand is! Grandfather Lamech sent him to get my father. The Sand knew that Grandfather was dying, so he gave the camel to my father so that he could get back to Grandfather Lamech in time, and the Sand said that he would walk back. And Grandfather died, and everybody was thinking about him, and we didn't even notice, at first, that the Sand was not with any of us, and then we had to bury Grandfather, and-oh, oh, Aariel, we don't know what has happened-"

Aariel let her talk. When her voice faded and she pressed her face once again into his fur, he transformed slowly, gently, until she was enfolded in his wings. "Higgaion has gone to scent for him."

"He left Grandfather's grave?"

"For the living, yes. The Den and j.a.pheth will go with him."

"Oh, that's good, I'm glad, I'm glad. Higgaion will be sure to find him, and j.a.pheth will know what to do, and the Den, too."

Aariel drew her into the shade of the entrance to his cave. "Aariel-my father is going to build a boat, an enormous boat."

"That is wise," Aariel said gravely.

"For my brothers and their wives. For animals of every kind."

"Yes, to preserve the species."

"But not for my sisters, Seerah and Hoglah and their husbands and children. Not for Mahlah and her nephil baby. Not for-not for me."

Aariel drew her close. "Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it." His voice was calm, gentle.

"What about the twins?" Again her eyes filled.

The seraph's arm was strong as it held her. "I do not know."

"But you know that El told my father to build an ark?"

"Yes. That I know."

"But you don't know about the twins?"

"We do not have to know everything."

"But you could ask-"

"We have asked."

"Are the stars silent, too?"

"The stars are silent."

"Aariel, I'm afraid."

"Fear not. I will hold you," he promised.

"I am more afraid for the Sand and the Den than I am for myself. I love them."

"And they love you."

"I don't want them to die. Will they die?"

Aariel folded his wings about her. He did not look at her.

"I do not know."

Sandy slept. He still did not understand his reaction to Tiglah and her proposals for escape, but after a while he stopped questioning himself. When the time came for him to do something, he would know what to do.

Daylight was not a good time for escape. Perhaps in the cover of the night...

"Twin!"

It was Tiglah's voice, Tiglah's smell.

She pegged open the flap. "You have a visitor," she said.

He sat up, instantly alert. So her father and brother had come to kill him.

But it was Rofocale who came into the tent, bowing low to enter, so that his flaming wings dragged in the dust. Like Sandy, he was too tall to stand upright in this small tent. With swift grace he sat, facing Sandy, staring at him with garnet eyes. His bright hair was tied back, his cheeks white as snow.

He thrust out one hand and touched Sandy on the knee.

The touch was that cold which is so cold that it burns. Sandy flinched, but did not cry out. "Why are you still here?" Rofocale demanded.

Sandy replied in his calmest voice. "I have been kidnapped and am being held hostage. If I escape and leave this tent, I will be easily seen. There is no way I can lose myself in a crowd. I am as tall as you are. I'd make an easy target."

"Why have you come?"

"Come? I didn't come. Tiglah's father and brother kidnapped me, and I suspect you put them up to it."

Rofocale said, "I am not asking why you are here, in this tent. I am asking why you and your brother chose to come to this oasis."

"It was a mistake," Sandy said, as he had said to Tiglah. Rofocale again stretched out his hand, again touched Sandy on the knee. Sandy had had frostbite one winter, and this was how it had felt.

"If it was a mistake for you to come, why do you not leave?"

Sandy said, slowly, deliberately, "We will leave when it is time to leave."

"And how, then, do you plan to leave?"

How, indeed? "We will know that when the time comes."

"You do not belong here."

"No. I belong with Noah and his family."

Rofocale made a noise like a mosquito shrill. "You do not belong here on this oasis. There are no giants like you in this time and place. Why do you not have wings?"