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right. His kin-sister was a problem. He

could not abandon her. He had to send the message that Karlstrom was

waiting for. it was the only way to make sure Roz stayed alive. He

was obliged to play a double game until he could figure out the best

thing to do for all concerned.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The next morning, when Steve returned from washing in a nearby stream,

he found Night-Fever squatting outside Mr Snow's hut. As he

approached, she hurriedly assumed a kneeling position and unwrapped his

breakfast - a meal of flat-bread and sliced rings of dried fruit.

Steve thanked her politely then proceeded to eat without paying her the

slightest attention. He didn't object to the food parcels but he was

definitely not interested in the fun and frolic she clearly had in

mind.

Not with Night-Fever anyway.

As if sensing his disinterest, the She-Wolf waited patiently with eyes

averted. When he had finished the meal, she took away the straw mat

then got to her feet and went to fetch something behind Mr Snow's

hut.

A moment later she returned carrying Steve's quarterstaff.

Kneeling down, she laid it reverently before him. The last time Steve

had held it in his hands was on the edge of the bluff when he had faced

the triple menace of Motor-Head, Black-Top and Steel-Eye. And here it

was - except now, a gleaming blade, fashioned from a Tracker machete,

had been fixed to one end by means of a metal collar. Below it, two

spikes made from crossbow bolts had been threaded through the shaft at

right-angles to each other to deflect downwards blows from an opposing

blade. At the other end, the staff had been balanced by a second metal

collar.

Steve drew the quarterstaff out of its leather sling and ran his hands

along it, caressing the scarred wood. It felt good. A tingle of

excitement ran up his arms as if, in holding it, he had released a

store of hidden energy in the shaft. He thanked Night-Fever, using

the elliptical syntax that characterised Mute fire-speech; the language

of formal encounters. 'My tongue cannot speak the words that fill my

heart. You honour me with a great girl."

Night-Fever raised her eyes to meet his. 'It is you that honour me,

Cloud Warrior. After the earth-thunder I searched for your body among

the stones. This was all I could find to mark your passing. I gave it

to our clan-sister Clearwater. When she left us she gave it back to me

to guard until she or you returned. I kept it when I could no longer

remember why. Yesterday, when Mr Snow summoned you from the fire, I

understood. His words swept away the dark mists that cloud my mind."

Steve laid the quarterstaff down between them in the hope that it would

bring Night-Fever's hazy memory into focus. 'Did Clearwater speak to

you of me? Did she leave a message?"

The struggle to remember brought tears to her eyes.

She wiped them away and shook her head. 'The words have gone. I was

to give you the staff."

Steve responded by bowing his head. 'Thank you for bringing it to

me.

May the great Sky-Mother watch over you."

It was one of the polite ways to say goodbye, but Night-Fever stayed

put. She bent forward until her nose was almost touching the ground.

'Let me walk in your shadow, Cloud Warrior. If you have need of

anything let my hands and body provide it."

'My needs are few,' replied Steve, anxious not to upset her.

Night-Fever met his eyes again, this time with a faint, mocking

smile.

'I ask only to serve you. I do not seek the reward of your

bed-favours."

Uncertain whether she was referring to his previous rejection of her,

Steve said, 'I am not of your people, Night-Fever. Only when I have

done that which Talisman has sent me to do will I be of the

Plainfolk.

Until then, the pleasures you speak of are not mine to enjoy. If,

knowing this, you still wish to walk in my shadow during the day then

so be it. Let's give it a whirl."