. Wood heard the cry. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. Lucy could see the anger in her silhouette, the punishments and the grounding being formulated for the now dead daughter. But we’ve got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to talk to each other. That was what she was trying to make him understand. ‘For your messenger was obliged instead to come and find Hilary, and it has given me the opportunity to meet you. “To my chagrin, I have.
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