Joel tore himself away. "I'll be back," he said. "And to hell with what's proper!"
Terra Parkway was jammed with refugees streaming toward the palace. To the south, Joel could see a black pall of smoke overhanging the streets.
A worried frown creased his forehead. He had slipped from the palace by the tunnel along which he had escorted Tamis earlier. He should be devoting his whole attention to his immediate danger. But he couldn't dismiss the green-haired Priscilla Cameron from his thoughts.
He was worried about her there in the palace. Was this love? It was a disturbing sensation.
He began to breast the flood of refugees streaming from the battle area. White faces taut with fear. The faces of children and women. It was like a nightmare.
After a while the faces began to thin out. And then there weren't any left at all. The street lay empty before him.
"Hey!" a voice called. "Where do you think you're going?"
Joel caught sight of a guard crouched in a doorway.
"Get in here!" the guard growled. "What d'you want to do? Get killed? The rebels are up ahead."