of Star-Fire before making any judgment. But this part did sound odd.
They began climbing steps, going up to a structure that Danica could see was circular. “A round house?” she asked, somewhat breathless from the long climb up.
“All the houses are round. They’ve been here for years. When Galt bought the property the only building we added was the Chanting Room.” Evan opened a door and she went past him into Galt Anders’s house.
She stepped into a room lit by two lamps on either side of a fireplace. The bulbs were dim and shadows lurked in the angles of furniture. There were no corners in the room. A window wall overlooked the fire scene below. Danica turned away from the window and her eye caught a flicker of motion, but when she looked about her there was no one to be seen except Evan staring down at the flames.
“Evan,” she said, “is there someone in the house with us?”
“What?” He turned around to face her. “No, Galt is with the others. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“But I saw something. Does he have a pet?”
“A pet? No, there are no animals at Star-Fire except Melantha’s cat. And the horses, of course.”
A shadow detached itself from behind the couch.
“Evan, it’s one of the children,” Danica said.
“Amy.” His voice was flat; then the pitch changed, becoming singsong. “Amy, listen to me, Amy, you must go to the fire, the fire helps us all, you must not hide, the fire is for you.”
With a sudden rush of movement, the child disappeared into the darkness beyond an archway.
“She isn’t supposed to be here,” Evan said. “Galt indulges her.” He followed Amy, switching on lights as he went. “Amy,” he called.
Danica trailed along. Something about the child had suggested Amy was afraid. This wasn’t a giggling child, hiding to tease or for the fun of being found. Amy’s silent disappearance had been that of a small, hunted animal.
“Don’t disturb her,” Danica said to Evan. “Let’s go back to the living room.”
“She shouldn’t be allowed to miss the ritual fire,” he repeated stubbornly.
“But isn’t that almost over for tonight? Don’t hunt her down.”
Evan stopped and swung around to stare at Danica. “Has she gotten to you already?” he muttered.
“I haven’t even seen her clearly, but I know Amy is afraid. Your searching for her hiding place can only increase her fear—it certainly won’t do her any good.”
“And how are you so sure of this from a shadow? You admit you wouldn’t know Amy if you saw her. Why do you accuse me of hunting her down? Don’t you find that a strong phrase for what I’m doing?”
Danica shook her head. “I don’t know, I can’t explain, but she’s terrified. Please let her be, come back to the living room.”
Evan shrugged. In the harsh overhead light his face was hard, the blue-green eyes cold. Can Amy be afraid of Evan, specifically ? Danica asked herself. Is this fear I feel, flowing like an air current about me, directed toward him or is it free-floating, a fear of everything ?
“What’s wrong?” A man’s voice spoke from behind them.
They both turned and Danica saw a man with dark hair standing in the hall. He was taller than Evan, though not as heavily built.
“We were looking for Amy,” Evan said. “She’s here somewhere. I know you wouldn’t have wanted her to miss the fire.”
The man shrugged. “I don’t like to push Amy,” he said.
“But Melantha…” Evan broke off. “Sorry. I forgot why I’m here. This is Danica Linstrom, Galt.”
Galt Anders, the director of Star-Fire. He moved toward her, an olive-skinned man with straight black hair worn above his collar. She looked into slanting brown eyes and suddenly recalled her mother speaking of a boy the teenaged Danica had begun to date.
“Beware of those dark Swedes, Danny. Tartar blood makes them different.”
“What do you mean, different?” Danica demanded of her mother.
“They can be cruel,” her