Hello hello! I'm really sorry about the delay - but the good news is my exams are over so I can give this some more attention now! Also the delay was caused because I suddenly had a freak-out, tore up my remaining plot and redesigned the WHOLE ending. It was rather intense... As always this is for you guys who have stuck faithfully with it :) Please review...

Chapter 20

Jahar, love, are you in? Jahar glanced up from her computer screen at her husband, hovering somewhat coyly at the entrance to the scoop. She didn't smile.

It would appear so. Still Alloran dallied in the sunlight, his hands behind his back as if he were hiding something from her. Jahar sighed irritably. Will you come in or shall I come out? Alloran leaned against the side of the scoop, the sunlight gleaming off the muscular lines of his body, and for a second she was struck again by the fact that he had once been, and still was a very attractive Andalite.

Jahar, I have convinced our children to love me, Alloran said, and she wrinkled her forehead at the unexpected conversation topic. And yet, it seems I can not win you back. His thoughtspeak held regret, but also a strange tantalising teasing tone.

You tried to wipe out an entire race, Jahar said baldly, confused as to why he was treating their obvious coolness as some sort of a joke. Alloran dipped his head, mea culpa style.

A terrible moment of madness, brought on by the horror of war. There is not a day I do not regret it, but I can not bear to think that it is destroying our marriage. You would not have me leave, but now I am here you still seem unhappy.

And yet this seems to amuse you, Jahar replied archly. Alloran shook his head vigorously.

Oh Jahar, if you only knew. He paused. Love, I require your permission to continue. Are you in a mood to be won again?

Less so by the second, Jahar said coldly. Alloran hesitated, and then spoke again.

Jahar, will you come out into the sunlight? I have a gift for you.

Jahar sighed and stretched, easing the stiffness from standing still from her limbs. Over the weeks since Alloran had come home his dreadful despondency had abated somewhat, as he engaged more with his children. She'd seen him run with them laughing, across the fields. But with her he remained formal and serious, as if out of some respect for the gravity of his actions. Genocide could not be gaily brushed away: it stretched like a gaping chasm between them, with the dead Hork Bajir reaching out of it and screaming at her every time she or Alloran tried to move closer. His new mood unnerved her, and as she stepped out into the sunlight the Hork Bajir howled loud in her head.

Alloran kept his hands behind his back, but motioned with his head to the ground. She glanced down and saw a Kafit bird, in a ramonite cage. The walls had been made transparent to allow her to see it, with its sharp hunting beak and six wings, glowing brightly. She sighed and looked back at Alloran.

You brought me a bird? I would much rather it were free.

We'll let it go in a minute, Alloran promised. It is not the gift. Close your eyes, Jahar. She rolled them grumpily, but shut them obediently. The sensation of nearby movement told her that he had stepped close, and she felt his breath on her shoulder as the briefest contact told her that his arms had slid over her head and were loosely encircling her. Despite the shrieks in her head for a second she realised how long it had been since she last had him close. It had been at the end of his last visit, before his disgrace and fall. She remembered it and a tremor slipped through her before she could stop it.

Open, Alloran commanded, and she obeyed, blinking in the brilliant sunlight. Using her stalk eyes she glanced down at Alloran's hands in front of her, and gasped.

Alloran, what is that?

It's called the Escafil device, he said softly. The blue box. Do you know what it does? Jahar nearly burst into shocked giggles. Of course she did! What Andalite didn't? And what female didn't dream jealously of the warriors who were given the ability to change their shape and become another creature? Warriors who could fly and shrink to a pin prick.

Females aren't supposed to be exposed to the technology, she whispered reverently, her eyes filled by the small, innocuous looking cube.

I still have a few friends in the military, Alloran laughed. A very small number indeed, it is true, but enough. She reached out falteringly to the box, but drew her hand back again as if afraid of being burnt. Alloran laughed again and twisted around to face her, holding the small glowing cube out to her. Do not be afraid, love. All you need do it touch it. She stretched out her fingers again, braver this time, and the cacophony of death howls in her head shrank to a low murmur. The box was warm to the touch, and following her mate's example she splayed her hand on one of the faces of the cube. A strange tickling sensation passed into her, and then Alloran drew the cube away again. Jahar stared in surprise at her hand. It appeared completely unchanged.

Did it work? she asked. Alloran motioned to the captive Kafit bird.

Shall we try it? he teased. He opened the box and she slid a hand in, carefully avoiding the bird's jabbing beak. She placed her palm lightly on the back feathers. Imagine the bird and all that it is to be the bird, Alloran instructed. Jahar formed an image of the creature in her head, and beneath her touch it stopped flapping and struggling to reach her with its beak, growing calm, almost in a trance. Jahar withdrew her hand carefully, and the bird seemed to take a moment to wake up. It glanced around, spied the open lid of the cage and flapped out, squawking indignantly. Jahar followed it with her eyes as it beat the many wings for altitude. Alloran smiled.

Would you like to fly too, love? he asked.

How do you do it?

Imagine the bird, he ordered. He closed his eyes and suddenly feathers appeared, spreading across his body, bursting out of the skin.

Does it hurt? Jahar asked, concerned, as his tail shrivelled. He cracked open one eye.

Not at all. The only worry you have it to be ready for the instincts of the bird. She needed no further encouragement but closed her own eyes and imagined the Kafit bird, focussing on its sharp beak, many wings, its beady eyes.

The changes were fast. Jahar gasped as her arms shrank, and then suddenly she fell onto her belly as her legs migrated to her back to become wings. It felt like it should have hurt but it didn't, in a strange way, and it wasn't long before the morph was complete. The Kafit mind was not difficult to recognise and subdue: a vague instinct to fly and chase small things which shot by. She didn't like the other bird though, as it was another male and too near to her. Squawking crossly, she puffed up her feathers and spread her six wings aggressively.

Please don't attack me, a voice said in her mind, and suddenly she realised it was Alloran, the bird was Alloran, and she was Jahar.

I am sorry, she apologised. Alloran tipped his head to the sky.

Shall we fly? He beat his wings and she followed suit, laughing incredulously as her body lifted off the ground, as she gained height. A breeze caught her, lifting her up, and it was as if the body knew how to fly itself. She relaxed and let the bird take charge as the ground dropped away beneath her.

This is astonishing! It was an incredibly liberating feeling, as the wind ruffled her feathers and she flew, unconstrained by dimensions, by gravity, free as she had never been before.

It is my favourite morph, Alloran admitted. He soared even higher. Catch me if you can!

They flew for almost the whole two hour morphing period, above the common grasslands where a group of arisths were play-fighting. Jahar's heart caught for a second as she thought of Farling, denied the shining future in the military those arisths took for granted, but it was hard to stay mournful when flying, and she surrendered to the joy of soaring above the Andalites chained to the ground.

Do you think this is how the Ellimist feels? she asked Alloran. He laughed.

Don't tell me you believe that story love. Ellimist indeed!

And why not? she pushed. Would your parents have believed me if I told them that their son would one day fly on wings?

Technology is different from superstition, Alloran countered. And besides, if you believe in the Ellimist then you have to entertain the theory that there are others too. Forces of evil ranged against us.

Perhaps there are, she challenged, able to speak of things she would not usually because of the liberating power of flight.

Bah! Alloran snorted. We control our own destinies. His voice had lost its joy, and grown heavy with sadness. Our own choices dictate our futures. Jahar shivered, and flapped closer to him, as if two birds could cuddle in the air.

Forgive me love, I did not mean to make you sad, she whispered. Alloran shook himself.

It would be very easy, wouldn't it, to believe in all powerful beings? he said quietly. Because then it wouldn't all be our own fault. My fault. Jahar will you ever love me again?

Jahar hesitated. She had sensed the conversation was leading to this, and yet had no prepared answer. Finally she said, I don't know, Alloran. I want to very much. But what you have done is… horrific. There is a darkness in you I never saw before, and which I can not understand.

I do not understand it either, Alloran said bitterly. You only have to stand next to it. I carry it every day, and every day I ask myself when it was that I decided to sacrifice an entire race. But… he stopped, and then collected himself. Jahar, what I did was morally reprehensible, but I still believe it was the right thing to do. If the Yeerks had been allowed to keep the Hork Bajir race intact then they would have been almost unstoppable. At least I gave us a chance. High Command hypocritically condemns with me whilst reaping the rewards of what I have done. Yet it hurts more when I feel you are doing the same.

Jahar nearly fell out of the air at his words. With difficulty she struggled to find an answer.

Alloran, I can never condone what you did. But… it does not define you. It was difficult to swallow her long-simmering anger, but for the first time she found she actually wanted to. Perhaps I have allowed my anger at your crime to become anger against you, she admitted. I will try to separate them. He turned his head to her, the Kafit bird's face expressionless.

Thank you love. That would mean a lot to me. She angled her wings to fly closer to him, and for once there was silence in her head.

That evening they took the children to Jahar's mother's scoop and left them there, fussed over by their grandmother and her friends. They used The Jahar to take them there, and afterwards Alloran piloted the ship, and he flew away from their scoop, away from their continent even, across the small ocean which covered only a twelfth of the Andalite world, to a lush plain Jahar had never seen before. The evening air was warm and heavy with the promise of rain and the perfume of foreign plants. Alloran was clearly familiar with the place, leading her through the knee high fronds to a small oasis in the middle of the vegetation where they were able to drink. Afterwards he showed her the tropical grasses which only grew here, in the equatorial regions, with their bold scents and vibrant colours. And after they had fed on the delicate grasses until they were both satiated he stood still, waiting awkwardly, nervously as she crossed the chasm, ignoring the Hork Bajir clasping at her heels, and was close to him once more.