A flame leaped inside Flane, for he thought of the girl with hair like dancing fire, red as the desert sunset. But months of wandering on the desert made him taciturn and suspicious.
"How do I know this? You may be a meknik for all you can prove. And I have learned that the mekniks do not approve of me."
Harth chuckled.
"So I have heard. But, about that weapon of yours. I would like to use it. It would be a wondrous thing against the Darksiders. They would never capture Moornal if I had that."
"The weapon is mine. Forget it."
"You are of Klarn, man. In this time of need, you must use that weapon to save your people!"
"I am no Klarnvan. The blood of the space-wanderers is in my veins. I am son to those who lie in the big ship. I owe loyalty to none but them and Saarl—and a girl with red hair."
Harth opened his eyes very wide at that. He grinned, and turned to look at the magniship. He shouted, "Aevlyn!"
Flane backed against Saarl, ready for attack from the ship. But all he saw there was someone in a white cloak come through a doorway and stand at the rail, staring over the sands toward them. It was a girl—a girl with hair as red as the sinking sun, who looked at him and laughed and waved a white arm.