"I have been thinking," Dveyella began hesitantly. "I have asked if you will fly in my pack. That is no longer possible."
Velmeran looked up, startled. "Do you not want me?"
"Certainly I want you," she insisted, although she would not look up at him. "But Valthyrra Methryn wants you as well, and she needs you more."
"And what about what I want? Do I not have any choice in the matter?"
Dveyella shook her head slowly. "Mostly people do enjoy such freedom, but those of greater ability have the greater responsibility. My own responsibilities have forced me to this decision, responsibilities to myself, to you, and to all Starwolves. I hope that you can recognize your own responsibilities and face them bravely."
Velmeran only stared at her in disbelief. "What are you talking about? I am only a pilot… a good one, perhaps, but still just a pilot."
"Yes, you do keep saying that. I do not know if you are afraid of the responsibilities in themselves or because they are at odds with your own desires." She paused, frowning. "Meran, I have been on half the ships in the fleet. I have met most of the Commanders and pack leaders, and I have heard enough about the rest to judge correctly. Someday soon you will command the Methryn. And if Councilor Lake spoke the truth, that this ancient war will be decided within our own lifetimes, then you and possibly you alone will win it for us.
"Meran, do you honestly believe that I am the first person, in all these years, to find a way into this city? That is actually only the best of three effective plans that I have. Others have surely discovered some of those plans for themselves. The difference is that no one has ever decided that the time has come to try, or knew how to actually go about doing it. You know what must be done, how it should be done and, I believe, how to make certain that it is done."
"And you will decide that for me, whether I like it or not?" Velmeran complained bitterly.
"Yes, by that much the choice is mine," she agreed. "I tell you that there is much that you must and will do in your lifetime, but I also promise that you will not face that future alone. If you cannot come with me, then I will stay with you."
"But… what of your own pack?"
She shrugged, unconcerned. "What pack? Two fighters and a transport? I have told you that Threl and Marlena want to retire soon. And Baress is no longer as delighted with the business as he used to be; he is my younger brother and wished only to stay with me. And I want to stay with you."
"Why?" Velmeran asked in the bewilderment of innocence.
"For love, if nothing else," she replied. "I have never loved and known that it was real. And I do not believe that you would even know what love is, or you would have known this long ago."
"But I…" Velmeran began to protest, but hesitated.
"Do you not?"
"Perhaps I do; I do not know. Perhaps, as you say, I do not even know what it is. I guess that I have always thought of love as a human indulgence. I have never sought love; perhaps I could have known it before, but I refused to recognize it. It frightens me, and I do not know why."
"Why?" Dveyella asked. "We are Kelvessan, what they call Starwolves. We were made for a purpose, yes. But our lives are our own. Are you afraid to claim the rights and privileges of being a real person, afraid that you will fail? Decide now whether you are a person or a machine. But I must leave you if you decide that you are a machine, for a machine can never return my love."
Velmeran sat for a moment in silence, and Dveyella thought that she saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes. And that moved her to pity, for she had not suspected that he was indeed so lonely and afraid.
"I still do not know if I love you," he said at last, not looking up. "But I think that I could, for it seems that my heart would break if you were to go away."
Dveyella smiled. "Is that not love?"
She paused and glanced up, for a Feldenneh, a balladeer, was approaching timidly while the other musicians in her group waited near the entrance of the little cafe. Canine in form and clothed only in her own thick coat of fur, she looked to be no more than a large wolf walking with unusual grace on its hind legs. She held in her arms a gelvah, half harp and half guitar, the instrument of the Feldennye street balladeer. She stopped beside their table and dipped her slender snout over the upper neck of her instrument.
"Fair night, noble Starwolves," she said in a rich, velvety purr. "If it would please you, I have a song that I would give you."
"It would please us greatly," Velmeran replied, reaching for a coin in his belt pouch. But the Feldenneh quickly laid a slender hand on his arm.
"Please, it is my gift to you," she said. "The Feldennye do not forget that we come and go as we please because of you. A small gift, compared to what you give us. The people of the wolves are gracious."
"Who is a wolf?" Velmeran teased.
The balladeer smiled. "I have for you a very, very old song, as old as my own world. I fear that my poor translation does not do it justice."
She nodded to her fellows and struck the opening chords, then lifted her delicate muzzle to the night and sang.
Fair night, and darkness surrounds us softly,
Hidden where none in the world may see.
Here we are alone.
This night is our own.
Fair nights that we share joyously.
Come love, for love is the force that binds us.
Short is the time that we call our own.
Though night soon must fly.
Love will never die.
It lives in the cherished memory of this fair night.
The balladeer reset the tone lever of her gelvah and shifted smoothly into another song, now playing solo to the accompaniment of her fellow musicians. She turned and walked slowly away into the night as she continued to play, and the music carried clear and bright through the dark and deserted streets.
Dveyella rose and held out a hand to her companion. "Come. I know where we can get a room for the night, one cool enough to be comfortable to us."
"Why do we need a room?" Velmeran asked innocently.
Dveyella smiled tenderly. "Meran, promise me that you will never completely grow up."
They left together, silent and unnoticed, descending the curving path back toward the hotel at the port entrance. Near the top of that same passage, on a bridge overlooking a short waterfall, the balladeer paused to sing again. Her words carried through the clear, still air, echoing among the rocks of the underground stream, but still did not reach the sharp ears of the two Starwolves. For they were already gone.
Fair night, fair night delay!
Night is the realm of love.
Cherish the moment that love's fortune has spared you.
This night shall pass, and the light of dawn shall find you,
Disturbing your dream of love.
Beware! Beware!