"I could write the songs out for you."
"The beauty is in you and your voice. Just sing."
She sang, something about a king with light streaming from his hair, coming naked out of the forest to bring love into his kingdom. Small white clouds drifted in the blue sky, and blue Annis slept just above the rustling branches that guarded the secret of their island. He listened and watched her.
She was softly rounded as the clouds, and her clustered brown curls made an island of the vivid face expressing the song she sang so bird-like and naturally. She was vital, compact, self closed, perfect—like one of the great flowers nodding in the breeze along the island shore—and his heart yearned across to her.
"Pia," he said, breaking into the song, "do you really want to get away from New Cornwall?"
She nodded, eyes suddenly wide, lips still parted.
"Come with me to Belconti then. Right now. We'll cross to Car Truro and wait there for Gorbals."
The light dimmed in her face. "Why Car Truro?"
"Pia, it's hard to tell you. I'm afraid of your great-uncle.... I want to contact the planetary government."
"It's no good at Car Truro, Flinter. Can't you just come back to Bidgrass Station and ... and ... do what Uncle Garth wants?"