FROM MY MANUSCRIPT, "The B'ha'an: The Daughters of the Four Directions." "You are early." Rey'ch'el's voice sounded like she had a stuffy nose. "A little," Liiih admitted. Rey'ch'el's facewas the usual mask she used when she was embarrassed or upset. Nevertheless her cheeks, coloring a faint pink, betrayed her discomfort. The rims of her eyes were red and puffy. "You've been crying." "Not much point pretending otherwise, is there?" Rey'ch'el replied, trying to manage a stiff smile and failing to hold it. Liiih shook her head and hugged the White. Letting go, she stepped back, studying Rey'ch'el. "For some time, I think. Have you been here that long, then?" Rey'ch'el shook her head. "No. Been doing it, off and on, all morning." "Newman is it?" Rey'ch'el nodded, tears welling ino her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. "He's totally destroyed my life," she said, dropping her usual high-speech in her distress. "I liked my life the way it was. I don't want anything different. Now he's here; and nothing's the same. And I have to change--to accept his ways--and they're so strange and undignified. Liiih, what am I to do?" "Give him some time, Rey'ch'el!" Liiih winced. She'd been a lot more impatient tan she'd intended. "He's hardly been with us more than two nantah. Granted, a lot of the things he does are odd; even bewildering, but--" "Unfathomable, you mean" "Sometimes, yes." "Sometimes? More like all the time. And I'm to swirl the bowl with him? To take him to my bed? I don't understand how you and your sisters can even accept his embrace. The thought of him touching me leaves me queasy." Her sister's unfairness caused a rush of indignation speeding Liiih's pulse. She sucked in her breath angrily. "He's not some beast of the forest, Rey'ch'el!" she said with heat. "Whatever he is, Newman is a man--and a decent one, too." She stood glaring at the White, her breathing shallow and rapid. Rey'ch'el stared back, her face stiff and devoid of feeling. Her large black eyes, though, glinted with anger. "It's not as though he'd dragged us into the quintel and forced us, you know." Rey'ch'el gave a harsh laugh. "No, I'll give him that, at least. But you were all taught better." She shook her head, softening her severity. "A bunch of wantons--all of you," she chided, her hunor laced with a measure of bitterness--or sadness--Liiih wasn't sure which. At any rate, the anger between them had dissipated. "Well, Liiih teased back, "if we hadn't dragged him into the quintel, we'd never have been his sweet sisters. The man is shy. Anyway, Rey'ch'el, your turn is coming. You'll have to be as much a wanton as the rest of us." "Oh, I think not as much as that," the White retorted, reverting to high-speech. Liiih braced her legs stiffly apart, hands on her hips. "Be as chaste as you like, Elder Sister; but you'll have to invite him; or he'll never go to your bed." The distress on Rey'ch'el's face was clear enough. "When we have swirled the bowl, he will get his invitation," she said grimly. "Do my Sisters think I do not know my duty? Grandfather died to find Newman. And Omanii accepted the burden of knowing Grandfather would go and die; and said nothing until after it had happened. Sha'a'an gave up her music to bring him back to the People. Do you suppose I would allow them to sacrifice so much and then refuse to do my part to hold Newman to the H'lomeh? The Powers were gracious enough to let me have eight winters of this life I love so much. What did Sha'a'an have? A year? Two?" CONTINUED IN THE FIRST COMMENT BELOW. PLEASE CONTINUE READING.