When Burke led his men out into the marches the next morning, he suddenly found himself face to face with a chimp officer.

At about thirty yards to the officer's right side, he spotted another one, and another one at about the same distance from that one.

They had run into a cordon.

The villagers were huddling behind Burke's back, making him the speaker of their little group. Ignoring his thudding heart, Burke peered up into the ape's face. It wasn't someone he remembered, so if he was lucky, the chimp wouldn't know his voice, either.

Burke cleared his throat. "Excuse me, officer, but we need to pass. We're draining—"

"You turn around and go back to your nest, frog," the chimp growled, and Burke's heart stuttered at the slur. "You don't get to spread your filth around."

"We're under orders from the doctor," Burke tried.

"And I'm under orders from General Urko himself." The ape leaned down to him and patted his gun. "He wrote them in here. Want me to read them to you?"

It was no use arguing with the chimp. He'd just get himself killed, and the villagers, too. He'd report back to Galen, let the apes sort it out among themselves. Burke turned his head to tell his troupe they had an unexpected day off-

"Let me talk to them. We know how to handle our humans around here."

Burke whipped his head back. Another chimp had joined them - one of the local police, judging by his words. He waited, curious against his will.

The first chimp didn't move. "I've got it under control, mate. It's just humans."

"Yeah, I can see that, but still, they're our responsibility, so why don't we just switch places for now?" The other chimp didn't budge, and Burke turned back fully. This was interesting.

Urko's ape muttered something under his breath, but jerked his horse's head around and rode off. The second ape stared down at Burke as if he was trying to pierce through his hood. "You're one of the doctor's humans?"

"Yeah." ...sir, but Burke just couldn't force the word over his lips.

The ape didn't seem to mind. "Send these humans back to the village."

Slowly, Burke turned around a second time to face his hooded, huddled workforce. "You heard the officer. Go back, make yourselves useful somehow. Ask A... Tamas where you can help."

The ape waited until they were out of earshot. "That medicine of yours is working, I heard."

Burke ducked his head. "It's working alright, but we also need to drain the marches, to dry out the breeding ground of the mosquitos..."

"Can't help you there, boy, I'm not gonna question the general. They don't pay me well enough to get my ass fried." The ape turned his head to throw a quick glance to both sides of the cordon. "But my friend has caught your fever, and he needs that medicine real quick."

Yeah, I hope he burns up and croaks, monkey.

On the other hand, if one of them died, it would only spell trouble for the villagers, and for themselves, trapped as they were. Burke carefully kept his voice flat. "I can bring you some from the doctor, if you wait here."

"Nah, not here in broad daylight." The ape scrunched his nose and threw another nervous look down the cordon. Burke began to suspect that he was the only local among Urko's thugs. "I'll keep this post and let you slip through after dark... and get back, too. Can't leave myself, you see?"

"Alright," Burke said slowly. "Who should I give it?"

"Name's Tilan."

Burke's brows rose. The guy who had arrested him? Without Tilan, they'd be miles and miles away from this drama by now. And now it looked as if the damn chimp was dragging them under even more. He listened intently as the officer described the way to Tilan's house. Burke had no intention of going himself - he'd probably not be able to resist the temptation to go by Urko's lair - so he needed to be able to describe it to whoever he was going to send in his place. Omi, probably; the kid had taken a liking to him, and would do anything to impress him.

"Make sure you go as soon as the sun sets," the ape concluded his instructions. "Tilan's got it pretty bad, and I heard the fever kills quickly."

Burke nodded. "He'll have it by midnight."

"Good boy," the chimp said, and Burke was grateful for the hood concealing his face. Maybe he should wear it permanently; tell the apes he had leprosy, or something.

He just tipped the nonexistent rim of his hood and turned away to slouch back to the village. He'd probably have to empty bedpans now; digging ditches looked positively fabulous by comparison.

At the gate of the village, Burke threw a last glance over his shoulder.

Black uniforms were spread out as far as his eye reached. Urko had made sure their horses were all dark, too, and the effect was ominous - a black barrier enclosing the village, Burke was certain, from all sides. They were just standing there, silent, waiting.

Waiting for Urko's signal.

Burke closed the gate behind him.

Zana calculated that if she ran the whole way to the village, snatched the medicine, and ran back without pause, she'd make it to Tilan's bed just before the sun would peek over the horizon. She had tried to sneak out the night before, but had dropped behind her windowsill almost immediately again, as a troup of five or six of Urko's baboons rode by her window. After that, she had sat watch the whole night, trying to determine a time when the black-clad traffic would finally thin out.

She had slept away almost the whole day after that, and only appeared for dinner with a stale apology on her lips. Inta hadn't even listened; Zana and Forla had snacked on cold leftovers, while Inta had kept watch over a delirious Tilan. To be more precise, Zana had fed Lomax, the only one too young to understand what was going on, and tried to calm down a crying and frightened Forla; she had sneaked some cold meat and fruit back into her room afterwards, and wolfed down the food in mere moments. Then she had gone back to bed, to store up sleep for that desperate run for Tilan's medicine in the hour of the wolf.

This, now, was her and Tilan's last chance. If she chickened out again, Urko would barge into the village by morning to hang Dr. Kova, and then he'd find out what a treasure had fallen into his lap instead.

Zana urgently wished for a weapon. For a moment, she seriously pondered taking Tilan's gun. Only the fact that she didn't know how to load it in the first place made her decide against it. Besides, it would only hinder her while she was climbing down.

Her feet had just touched the cobblestones when a desperate wail from the upper window stopped her in her tracks. It took her a moment to recognize the voice, but simple logic told her that there was only one adult left in that house who had reason to cry out in anguish like that.

Inta.

Zana felt her heart thud against her ribs. This could only mean one thing.

... and it also would alarm whoever was riding patrol in town. She turned around to climb up into her room again before one of Urko's men appeared around the corner. It was too late to run for Tilan's medicine now. If only she had dared to sneak out yesterday!

Her foot stepped on something crunchy. It sounded brittle, like glass. Zana bent down to see what it was - it had felt peculiar under her sole, smooth and round... She carefully picked up the biggest shard and held it up into the moonlight.

It had been part of a bottle. She knew its form - it was one of their medicine bottles; she had cleaned them often enough... and she also knew the sharp, precise handwriting on the label.

Tincture Of Worm Wood

For some reason, Galen had fallen in love with Alan's name for the plant. How had that bottle ended up on Tilan's doorstep? And why was it broken? What had she missed, while she had been sleeping?

The sound of hoofbeats jerked her out of her confused reverie; Zana tucked the shard into the pocket of her robe and swung herself up the outer wall of Tilan's house and back into her room.

She raced out into the corridor and into the couple's bedroom. "Inta, sweet Mothers, what is wrong?"

Inta was tearing at her hair, her clothes, shaking Tilan's shoulders. "He's not waking up! He's not waking up!"

For a moment, Zana stood frozen under the door, wishing herself far away. Then she stepped into the room, into the hot, stale air that smelled of sickness and death. "Let me have a look at him, Inta." She took the shaking woman by the shoulders and sat her into a chair. Inta hugged herself and looked up at her with huge, panicked eyes. "Is he... is he...?"

"I don't know, Inta," Zana said, fighting to keep her voice calm. "I'll have a look at him now."

She took a deep breath and lit the candles on the nightstand before she bent over the still body on the bed. Tilan's head had lolled to the side, and his eyes were only half closed. Zana looked down at his chest, but couldn't detect any movement. She took out the broken bottle and held the glass under his nose, but no breath fogged the shiny surface. And her fingers couldn't find a pulse.

Zana straightened and closed her eyes for a moment. This was bad. She had to get out of town immediately and warn Galen and their humans... they had to try and break through the cordon... perhaps she should take Tilan's gun with her, after all...

But first, she had to tell Inta. Zana turned around and opened her mouth, but the truth was apparently written in her face, because after one look at her, Inta began to wail again. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no..."

"I'm so sorry, Inta," Zana said helplessly. "If only he had gotten my husband's medicine in time..."

Inta didn't react, swaying back and forth in the chair, hunched over so that her head was buried in her arms, muffling her cries. Zana eyed the shard in her hand. Someone must've brought a bottle of medicine to Inta's doorstep. Why hadn't it found its way inside?

She quickly crossed the room and sank into a crouch at Inta's chair. "Inta, listen to me," she said urgently. "I found this broken bottle outside your door." She trusted that Inta was too distraught to wonder what she had been doing in the yard at that time of night. "It's my husband's handwriting, and it contained the medicine against the fever. Inta!" The woman's wails had grown louder. "Inta! How did this bottle end up broken in the gutter in front of your house?"

Zana suppressed a frustrated growl when Inta refused to react. It didn't matter anymore, anyway.

But when she rose, Forla stood in the door, clutching a stuffed horse. "What's wrong with Daddy?" she asked in a trembling voice.

Zana swallowed and looked to Inta for help, but the woman was completely submerged in her grief. "Forla... did someone come to your door this evening, to make a delivery?" She was a coward, stalling to answer a little girl's question like that.

Forla nodded, eyes huge and shining with tears. "A human knocked after dark, but mommy shouted at him and threw something after him, and he ran away."

Inta, you foolish woman!

"We need to talk, Forla."

Zana led her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Forla stood before her, looking forlorn and on the verge of tears. Zana regarded her for a moment. "Do you want to sit in my lap?"

Forla nodded, tears now rolling down her cheeks; Zana drew her into her lap and held her close. The girl buried her face in her shoulder and sobbed. "I want my daddy!"

Zana laid her head on Forla's, and stroked her back, and closed her eyes that were suddenly overflowing, too. "I know, Forla, I know..."

She hated herself when she finally lifted her head and pushed Forla a bit away so that she could catch her gaze, but the light in the kitchen was already graying, and her time was running out. "Forla... there is something really, really important that I have to tell you. I know you're incredibly sad right now, but this is the only opportunity I have, and you must listen! Can you do that?"

Forla rubbed her arms over her eyes and drew a shuddering breath. She nodded. Zana stroked her hair. "That human who knocked at your door - that was a human my husband sent to you. He brought you the medicine that would've saved your daddy's life. But your mother didn't even listen to him, and threw the bottle after him, and the bottle broke on the stones, and the medicine was lost."

Forla stared at her with huge eyes, her mouth open, and Zana felt like a murderer herself. Wasn't it enough that the girl had lost her father? Did she have to take away the love for her mother, too?

She pressed on. "I want you to remember that the death of your father is not the humans' fault, Forla. Do you understand? This fever is spread by mosquitoes, not humans - and humans and apes both get the fever because they have been bitten by the mosquitos. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Forla nodded. Zana took a deep breath. "You don't have to tell your mother that. She wouldn't believe you anyway. She thinks that humans are filthy, and that's why she chased that human away." She leaned forward to stare into Forla's eyes. "If she hadn't believed those stories about filthy humans, that human could've given her the medicine for your daddy. I want you to remember that. Do you think you can do that?"

Forla swallowed and nodded again.

Zana drew a deep breath. "You told me you want to be an animal doctor when you grow up. I hope you'll remember that, too. You are brilliant, Forla, you'll be a wonderful doctor. Don't let anyone talk you out of that dream!"

She rose and let the girl slip from her lap. "I'm going to tell the prefect that your father... that she needs to come and help your mother," she lied. "In the meantime, I want you to go up and take care of little Lomax. He needs you, while your mother is... is occupied." She gave Forla a little push and watched her climb up to the living quarters. She stood there, mentally going through her things upstairs. There was nothing in there that she couldn't go without; nothing that would tell Urko anything about her, or their destination.

Zana silently closed the front door behind her. Then she broke into a run.

Above her, the sky turned a smoky gray.

"What did you want to show me that couldn't wait until morning, Ehme?" Virdon tried not to sound cranky; but his day had been gruelling, and his leg was acting up again. He tiredly thought that he just should've sent the young woman away, instead of following her to the stockade in the middle of the night, but she had been so excited, almost giddy. The villagers' circumstances were so dire now that seeing her smile in the weak light had roused his curiosity.

So he shouldn't complain now.

Ehme didn't seem to mind his exasperation. She led him deeper into the shadow of the stockade, behind the windowless wall of the barn-turned-hospital, where even the moonlight didn't reach. "We need to be someplace where there's no light."

"Then we could've stayed as well inside," Virdon whispered, Ehme's secrecy rubbing off on him.

"Too many people. I wanted to give you this without anyone watching."

Virdon's thoughts involuntarily flashed back to Pete's sardonic interruption of their last meeting; Ehme's wish for privacy was understandable.

... and worrying.

But she made no attempt to kiss him. Instead, she bent down to pick up something from the ground. When she turned back to him, she held stars in her hand.

Virdon blinked.

No, not stars, although they shone and sparkled as if they had tumbled from the sky and into her lap. They were... flowers, he realized as he bent down for a closer look. Some eerie mutation made the waxy petals shine with a pale, blue-white gleam. They had no scent, but with this kind of bioluminescence, they didn't need scent to attract insects. Virdon speculated that they were luring fireflies that confused them with mating partners.

He straightened. "Those are lovely, Ehme. What do you call them?"

"Earthshine, or Mothers' Tears." Ehme looked down at the flowers in her hands; the light emitted by them was strong enough to illuminate her face. She looked a bit embarrassed when she lifted her gaze to him. "I know that women don't give flowers to men," she said, "but I thought they might remind you of the stars... since you came from there."

Virdon took the flowers from her hands. "That's... thank you."

They stood there for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say. Virdon wondered where to put the flowers later. Maybe in one of their medicine bottles... Zana would know what to do with them.

"People are feeling better," Ehme said finally. "Nobody got the fever since we started to give out your medicine."

Virdon smiled. "I'm glad the tincture helps. Soon this will be just a bad memory."

"Yes." Ehme stared at the flowers in his hands. "Soon you will be on your way... with your friend, and your master."

"Yes." He didn't dare to tell her where they were going. Not with Urko being this close.

"Maybe I... could come with you?" Ehme's voice was thin and high all of a sudden, brittle with anxiety. "I could help with everything," she added hastily, when Virdon didn't answer, "no matter what! I could wash all your clothes-"

"But you're the healer's apprentice," Virdon interrupted her gently. "You... what will your people do when the old woman dies? Who will take care of them? And you know how to battle the swamp fever now. That knowledge is worth preserving, and teaching to your apprentice."

"What if... what if you stay here?"

"I... I really can't." As nice as Ehme was, and even if he wasn't on a quest to find a way back to their own time... Virdon couldn't imagine staying in this hopeless, tiny place, caged in between a hard cot in a dark hut, and back breaking work in the cotton fields. "Besides," he added, "what good would I be to your prefect? I can't work my bread's worth with this leg."

"We'd find something for you." Ehme stepped closer and laid her hands on his chest, and Virdon's heartbeat picked up, if from excitement or nervousness, he couldn't say. "I've waited for someone like you, Tamas," Ehme whispered. "Someone who is caring, and gentle..." she laughed. "... and handsome..." Her hands slid up his chest and neck, caressing the hair at the nape of his neck, and he couldn't do anything, his hands were tied up with the sparkling flowers he was forced to hold, and now she was exerting a soft pressure, pulling his head down to hers.

"Maybe I can make you reconsider," she whispered, and Virdon knew that she was about to kiss him, and he should pull away, she wouldn't be able to force his head down...

Their lips met, and he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, woodsmoke and mint, and was acutely aware how soft her lips were, soft and warm.

He was kissing her back. He was kissing her back, and he shouldn't, he shouldn't encourage her...

But she was, she was there, she was real, and she was so... eager, and soft, her whole body pressing against his now, her hands fisted in his hair, and her kiss now hungry, and demanding, and he just surrendered to that demand and let her in, and kissed her back, that fire now wandering down from his mouth into his chest and deeper, and he...

... he broke away almost panicked, gripping her by the shoulders and keeping her at arm's length. His heart was thundering in his chest as if he had been running from Urko's goons, and his breath came in short puffs. This was, this was all wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm... I'm sorry..."

"I'm not," Ehme gasped, just as out of breath as he was. "That was great."

"It... was," he conceded, feeling incredibly guilty. "You are a, a wonderful kisser, Ehme, but, but, I can't. I'm... I have a wife, and, I have children. I already belong to someone. I can't be yours, Ehme, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you back..."

"You have..." Ehme blinked. "But where..." Then it dawned on her. "Back on that other world. Where you came from, with your star boat."

"Yes."

He was still gripping her shoulders, and so he could feel the tremble whispering through her, like a gust of wind sweeping through the branches. He gripped her harder, as if he could make it stop. "I swore an oath to my son... that I would find a way home, no matter what." He cast for a word, a concept, that she would understand, that she would accept. "I'm oath-bound, Ehme..."

She stepped back, and his hands slipped off her shoulders, and dropped to his sides. "But your boat was destroyed when you stranded here. You said it yourself; there is no way back. So why won't you look for a woman here? Why not try to be happy here?"

"I'll never be happy here," Virdon said, and he knew it was true. Wandering through this land was like walking down a long row of kennels, each village a cage with humans in it, and apes guarding the doors.

"Happiness is a choice," Ehme hissed. "You don't want to be happy here, because you don't even want to be here!"

"I want to be with my family, why should that be wrong?" Virdon said, feeling the irrational urge to defend himself. "I have a daughter whose face I've never seen!"

"Because nobody in this world can repair your boat, or build you a new one," Ehme snapped, and Virdon thought he could hear tears in her voice. "You see how we live - do you think it's different for humans anywhere? And if the apes could build boats like yours, they'd have come and put their boots on your necks a long time ago! No ape can stand a human to be free! No matter where we hide, the apes find us, and they kill us, and they only let the meek live, to serve them, and to teach their children how to serve!"

Virdon could hear her heavy breaths in the darkness; he wasn't sure if she was panting or crying, and if she was crying, it might be out of fury as well as out of disappointment.

"You think you're too good for me," Ehme hissed, and now he was certain that she was furious. "Because I'm not a star woman, but a bog woman. Well, Tamas, I'm afraid you'll only find women like me on this world, but if you look up at the sky, all the stars are yours! Too bad they'll be forever out of your reach!"

"I don't think poorly of you, Ehme," Virdon said helplessly. "On the contrary..."

But Ehme just stepped back, and stepped back, into the milky light, and now he could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. He took a stumbling step towards her. "Ehme, please..."

But she turned away and ran, and he had dropped his crutch somewhere, dropped the flowers during that kiss, too, and he'd never catch up with her, lame and crippled, and what could he say that would make it better, would make her forget that kiss? He couldn't forget it himself, her taste was still lingering on his lips, and Sally...

Virdon drew a deep breath, and rubbed a hand over his eyes. For a moment, for the duration of that kiss, he had completely forgotten about Sally.

At his feet, the faint glow of the dropped flowers was slowly fading.

Galen was jerked upright so brutally that he cried out and flailed, his dream dropping away under him and winking out like a candle.

"Wake up!"

Zana's voice. Galen's eyes snapped open, but for a moment, he couldn't see anything but blurred shapes in the dim light of early morning. Someone had gripped him by his shirt and was now shaking him again. "Galen, for the love of the Mothers, wake up! Urko's coming!"

"What, what... Zana?" His sight cleared, and it was indeed Zana who was shaking him like an apple tree. Galen grabbed her wrists. "Stop that! What are you doing h"

"Tilan just died," Zana hissed. "And his wife is wailing loud enough to rouse Urko from his bed without having to send a messenger! I've run the whole way from their house to your bed to warn you! We must leave immediately!" She was panting; she had probably really run the whole way.

Galen blinked and tried to swallow, but his throat was parched, and his brain was foggy. He swung his legs out of bed and poured himself a mug of water, which he drank in one go.

Tilan was dead. Urko was on his way.

Urko was on his way!

His brain finally woke up to the meaning of Zana's words. His fiancée had already thrown his doctor's bag on the table and was beginning to stuff his instruments into it. Galen stumbled to his feet and caught her hand before she could break the stethoscope. "Let me do that."

"Zana? What's wrong?" Peet's voice from the curtain, rough and tense.

Galen didn't bother to turn around. "Tilan died. Apparently, my medicine reached him too late..."

"It didn't reach him at all," Zana snapped. "That foolish woman threw it after the human who brought it to her! Peet, find Alan, we need to leave right now! Urko can't be far behind me, he's on horseback, after all!"

"What about the people here?"

Now Galen did turn around, surprised to find Peet still standing in the entrance, hand clutching the curtain. "We can't load them all into our wagon and drive off with them, Peet," he said, sharper than intended. "They need to hide somewhere in the marches. You can warn them - after you've woken Alan."

Peet looked as if he was about to say something, but merely let go of the curtain and vanished, to find Alan, hopefully.

Galen closed the straps of his doctor bag and grabbed his robe. "Do you have everything? The mortar and pistil, and the bottles?" He threw a last, swiping glance at the room, but Zana had simply thrown everything into a wooden crate and was already brushing the curtain aside. Galen followed her outside, fighting the nagging feeling that he had forgotten something important. The room had been empty; he just wasn't fond of leaving in such a haste.

Alan was waiting at the side of the wagon, leaning heavily on his crutch, while Peet was hitching up the horses. "We can't leave these people to Urko and his thugs," Alan said without preamble. "He'll kill them!"

"As I said to Peet, we also can't load them all into our wagon," Galen snapped, and took the wooden crate from Zana's hands to load it into the cart. "I understand your wish to help your fellow humans, Alan, but our lives are in danger, too, and we don't have the time-"

"We don't need to load everyone into the cart," Alan cut him off. "Just those who are still too weak to walk. And we need to wake the others, divide them into groups, determine some of them as group leaders, to lead their group into the marches and hide there, and only meet up after the danger is gone..."

"I'll help you," Zana said promptly, and Galen suppressed a curse. "I'll wake the healthy humans."

"And I'll get the bedridden," Alan nodded.

"No, you don't, buddy," Peet cut in, and shared a look of complete understanding - and annoyance - with Galen. "Not with your leg. Sorry, Colonel, but you're the leader of this little evac, not one of the runners. Sit your ass on the driver's seat and prepare for a quick liftoff. And you," he pointed at Zana, "will sit your pregnant ass on the passenger seat!"

Peet strode towards Galen, while Alan helped Zana to climb up onto the wooden seat. "Kick them out of their beds," he murmured, "or better, kick one of them out of bed and tell them what's what, and to wake the others. I'll start loading up the invalids in there." He nodded towards the barn.

"This will cost us precious time," Galen hissed, "which may very well cost us our lives."

Peet shrugged. "Then you better get moving, doc." He patted Galen's shoulder in passing, and Galen muttered a curse and gingerly hop-sprinted across the muddy village square to wake the healer and her apprentice - the only persons with authority he had met during their stay.

The hut was tiny, and dark, and stuffy, and he felt an intense aversion to step over the threshold. "Ehme? Ehme, it's me, Dr. Kova! Are you in there?"

After a moment, he heard cloth rustling, and the young woman appeared in the fleck of pale light that had found its way into the hut. Galen hastily explained what had happened, and her eyes went wide with panic. She drew a shaky breath. "What... what shall we do, Doctor?"

"Wake everyone, divide them into groups, decide who are the group's leaders, and have them lead their group into the marches to hide there," Galen repeated Alan's instructions. "You know the land, Ehme, much better than the general does. You can go where the horses can't. You can... you can lead them into the bog, never to be found again." He felt like a murderer saying it. But was it murder to lead a murderer to his death?

Ehme nodded, a hard glint in her eye. "I can do that. I know where the ground is treacherous."

"You can't do it alone," Galen warned her. "There are too many of them, and they're armed." He felt ridiculous for pointing it out to her; if humans knew one thing, it was to fear an ape's gun. "Now... off you go, and wake the others. Urko can be here any moment now."

He turned away and picked his way back across the squishy yard, to the barn. The door stood wide open, but none of the patients was yet inside the cart, as far as he could see. He peeked into the barn; Peet was rousing the dazed humans; there were only half a dozen or so left.

"Here." Peet dumped a little girl into his arms, hot and heavy, and still not quite awake. "The sooner we're finished here, the better."

Six people. Six grown humans. Galen consciously refused to calculate how the additional weight would slow down their cart, and turned around to climb into the cart with the little human in his arms. And where in the world should he put her? Zana's cot, he decided. He wrapped her blanket around the shivering child and turned away to help whichever human Peet led to the cart to climb inside. The other humans were slowly appearing in the doorways of their huts, huddling together in confusion and fear. Ehme, Omi, and some others were dragging them by their sleeves, positioning them into groups.

Peet appeared in the barn door, supporting an older woman who took slow, swaying steps towards their wagon. Galen tried not to drum his fingers on the tailboard as they crawled towards him.

A cry from many throats whipped his head around. On the driver's seat, Alan cursed.

Burning torches rose over the stockade, hovered in the gray morning air like fiery birds of prey for a moment, and swooped down on the thatched roofs, that lit up immediately. Galen stared at the flames, wondering how they could catch fire so eagerly in this humid weather.

A loud boom tore his gaze away from the inferno. The gate of the stockade sprang open, and a black cloud swept in, horses already in full gallop. The humans cried out and bolted in all directions, their instructions for an ordered retreat forgotten. The clump of riders dissolved, as the apes took up pursuit. Galen just hoped that the billowing smoke would provide the fleeing humans with a bit of cover-

Shots cracked. The wagon shook, as their horses began to panic. From the front of the wagon, Galen heard Alan send Zana into the back. He threw a hasty look over his shoulder and saw her crouch in the footwell, her arms around the little girl. When he turned his head back again to look out into the yard, Peet was no longer on his way to them. He was staring across the yard, the old woman crumpled lifelessly at his feet.

Under the gate, a white horse, nervously dancing in place. Its rider had been reloading his gun, but was frozen in mid-motion, staring back at Peet.

Urko.