And as he mockingly uttered her name, she drew back, a darkness creeping into the brilliant depths of her. Slowly: "If that is the word you wish to use, yes."
He surged closer to her. "It is the word, Mother of four children! Then let me also forget the arts of existence—the eating of energy, the dispelling of it—the use of my para-propellents. I would as soon forget them. And let me also forget the dread moment of my birth!"
And he knew what effect that had on her, for he had told none but Moon Flame. Involuntarily she expanded, looked at him with dawning horror.
"Remember—that?" The words were torn from her.
"I remember it. And I will not forget," and he was gone from her sight into another band of hyper-space. But she followed, reaching out with tight bands of energy, holding him fast, and yet at a distance.
"Devil Star!" The words came faintly. "What is it you search for?"
She was debasing herself, she, a green light, millions of years older than he. And he knew his moment of gloating should be put aside. He was young. There was much knowledge to be had.
"I am searching for—" He stopped. For what? A restless quiver of sparks leapt from him. "Comet Glow, perhaps I am seeking to be master of my own fate."
For long and long her somber gaze rested on him. "Devil Star, it is not possible."